The Pit
by Aria Taylor
Summary: Everyone is born with a twin. One is evil and one is good. At sixteen, the twins must take a test to see which one they are. The good one is sent to Elysium, the perfect paradise. The evil one is sent to the Pit, a place where crime and death is a daily occurrence. Annabeth doesn't have a twin. When she turns sixteen, the government must guess what she is. And they choose wrong.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: All PJO characters belong to Rick Riordan.**

The first thing Annabeth did was hold her breath.

She'd heard the stories. The air in the Pit was toxic. If she let in a breath, then the air would go into her and her lungs would collapse. But was that fate really worse than the one that she was about to endure?

Fisting her hands at her side, she lifted her head and looked around at the barren landscape. The Pit looked like something out of a history book. Annabeth couldn't help but be reminded of the Sahara Desert, something she had read about in one of her aunt's geography novels. The world around her was glittering with golden sand that the wind used to paint swirling designs in the air. The sun was big and hot and scorched down on her. Almost instantly after being thrown out here in this wasteland, sweat had covered her face.

She was afraid to breathe, even though her chest was constricting with the need for oxygen. She was afraid to even _move_ , remembering the stories that her cousins would tell her in the dark of the night when Aunt Mary and Uncle James were asleep. They said that the environment of the Pit was so harsh that no one ever survived it. There were dead bodies buried under the sand, rotting away until there was nothing but dust. Annabeth shut her eyes tight, trying not to think about how the sand squishing beneath her feet could be the dusty remains of someone's dead body.

A cry bubbled up in her throat. She couldn't take it anymore.

Tentatively, carefully, Annabeth opened her mouth and let in a tiny breath. The air was rancid and heavy but as far as she could tell, it wasn't toxic. Her lungs hadn't collapsed and each breath was coming a little easier. Annabeth should have been relieved that she hadn't died instantly, but instant death would have saved her from the horrors she was about to endure.

Panic was building up inside of her. She took deep breaths and tried to get herself under control.

 _Now is not the time for a panic attack, Annabeth,_ she thought to herself. _Get yourself under control. Find shelter. Get somewhere with food and water. You will be okay._

Her panic was suppressed for a moment as her eyes roamed the wide expanse of the desert. She turned and walked a few steps and prayed that she would find something, _anything_ , just so she could rest for the night. She was exhausted.

A silent gasp escaped her mouth when she saw the outlines of a city in the distance. It was so far away that she couldn't make out much more than the shapes of the buildings, but it was there. Annabeth tried to view it as a place that offered shelter and food rather than a place where she would be eaten alive by the convicts that lived there.

Her hands quivering, Annabeth began to walk.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Everyone in the world is born with a twin.

No one knows how it happens. No one knows when it started happening. No one knows why is started happening. But for hundreds of years, everyone has been born with a twin.

You do everything with that twin. They're like an extension of yourself. You live with them. You eat with them, you play with them, you learn with them, you sleep with then. And when you turn sixteen, you are torn away from them. It's the way it has been for as long as anyone can remember.

When you turn sixteen, a pair of twins must go to the government building in their province and take a test. The test determines which twin is good and which twin is evil. Once the decision has been made, the good twin goes to Elysium, the territory for the good. Rumor has it that the sky is always blue and the river that runs through the territory is crystal clear. No one is ever sad. There is no pain and hurt. Everyone is kind and loving and accepting. There's always food and laughing and no one ever wants for anything.

The evil twin is taken to the Pit. The nickname for the territory of the evil is well-given. Set in the middle of one of the harshest deserts in the world, the Pit houses the cruel and insane. The food is scarce and when it is given, it's hard and brittle and tasteless. The crime rates are through the roof. The weak are singled out and quickly crushed. The Pit practices the survival of the fittest. The strong survive. The weak die.

Annabeth was born with a twin. But when she turned sixteen, she was the only one left.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

It felt like she'd been walking for an eternity before Annabeth finally reached the city. A compound was a more accurate word, really. The entire thing was surrounded by a thirty-five-foot concrete wall. Barbed wire twisted and tangled together on the top, preventing anyone from climbing over it. The only entrance was a big stainless steel door. Annabeth lumbered over to it and waited for it to open.

It stayed tightly shut.

Annabeth sighed. She wasn't exactly sure what she expected when she arrived. The door to open at her arrival and a bunch of heavily tattooed people to welcome her with open arms? Or, more accurately, a bunch of heavily tattooed convicts waiting to pulverize her the second she took a step inside.

Annabeth tried pounding on the door as hard as she could. She waited a minute and still, it didn't open. Sighing in frustration, Annabeth took a step back and looked around for a way to open it. Her eyes caught on a touchpad on the right side of the door. She stepped towards it and studied it.

There was nothing on it, no words of instruction or drawings to tell her what to do. Annabeth brought her finger up and pressed it against the surface, thinking that it might read fingerprints. When that didn't work, she pressed her entire hand against it. It still didn't work.

Annabeth felt like crying. She was hot and exhausted and hungry. As strange as it seemed, all she wanted was to be inside the compound already, because at least inside there was shelter and food. Out here all she could do was wait to die. She ran a hand through her hair in frustration and tears were beginning to well up in her eyes. How embarrassing would it be to cry right then when, for all she knew, everyone inside was watching her on some hidden camera right that instant?

That's when something on her wrist caught her eye. Tattooed on the skin right above her veins was a coiled up viper. The government officials that had decided to throw her in the Pit had tattooed this on her wrist, marking her as evil forever.

"Now," he had said, "everyone you will ever meet will know what your true nature is like."

Annabeth had wanted so badly to tell him that she thought that he belonged in the Pit as well.

Government officials were different. They had twins, just like everyone else, but before they were sixteen and had to take the tests, they were hand chosen by the government to join them. They were neither good nor evil. Annabeth had always found that a bit unnerving, how the people who ran their world were in a bit of a gray area when it came to their nature.

Annabeth stared at the viper tattooed on her hand, then looked at the touchpad in front of her. There was still nothing on it, nothing that indicated what she should do. Annabeth bit her lip and then she pressed the tattoo onto the touchpad.

The screen turned green. Annabeth heard the sound of shifting gears and then the steel door was opening, lifting up like a garage door. Annabeth stood in front of it, frozen in place, as the opening door revealed a group of about ten people, most of them men and all of them staring at her. Sizing her up. Annabeth's breath hitched with fear. Was this it, then? Were they going to see that she was too petite and weak to ever truly be one of them? Were they going to kill her because of it?

Her breath came a little easier when the man in front – a guy a few years older than she with sandy blonde hair a handsome face – smiled at her.

"Congratulations," he said. "You passed the first test."

Annabeth stared at him with a confused expression on her face.

"We have that little touchpad puzzle out there to whittle away the weak," another guy said. This one was a bit closer to her age and had salt-and-pepper hair that stuck up in all directions. He had a rifle strapped to his back, which sent Annabeth's nerves on edge. "If you can't figure out the puzzle, then you ain't belong in here. If you can, well, let's hope you pass the other tests."

"Stop, Travis," the first guy scolded. "You're scaring her." To Annabeth, he said, "Don't worry. Most everyone who passes that puzzle can pass all the other tests we have in store. We got no room in here for the weak." He walked over to Annabeth and threw an arm over her shoulder, pulling her inside with him. Annabeth was too exhausted and afraid to fight him. She let him lead her inside, only jumping when she heard the big steel door slam shut behind her. The sound of the lock engaging rattled in Annabeth's skull, right along with the realization that she was stuck here, possibly forever. Probably forever.

 _You don't understand,_ she wanted to scream. _I'm the weakest one here._

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

The compound was not like anything Annabeth had imagined. When she'd grown up, she'd heard stories of a poor community; dirty, dark, hungry, but civilized. The Pit was the opposite. The only thing Annabeth could compare it to was a zoo. As she walked with Travis and the other guy – whose name she'd learned was Luke – and the eight other people in their group, she passed a huge cage the size of the foyer in her aunt and uncle's house. Inside the cage, twenty or so women were chained up, their dresses torn and dirty and revealing way too much. Their hair looked like just strings hanging around their dirt-coated faces. They called out to the group, twisting and writhing around in a way that Annabeth supposed suggested sex. When the girls saw Annabeth, they scowled at her.

"Prostitutes," Luke explained, leaning down to say it in Annabeth's ear. Annabeth's stomach twisted, but whether it was because of the prostitutes or because of Luke's closeness was a mystery.

It just got worse as Annabeth continued walking. She'd expected street fights, but what she got was even worse. People were fighting, but they appeared to be fighting to the death. Bloody men lay on the ground, completely unconscious and immobile while their opponent kept kicking them in the gut, in the head, in the groin over and over again. Each fight had a crowd of at least fifty people around, shouting and cheering. One of the men fighting caught her eye. He stood over the body of a man who looked dead and when he caught her gaze, he didn't smile or wink or do anything that Annabeth expected an experienced street fighter to do. He just stared coldly in her direction until Annabeth was too afraid to keep watching.

Annabeth never imagined that the Pit would be like this. She never imagined she would see people so thin they were practically see-through. She never thought that she would see _kids_ running around in this environment, their faces dirty and their bellies swollen from lack of nutrition. She should have expected this, she guessed. After all, she herself had grown up in Elysium. She'd been lucky enough to have parents that were the good twins. She couldn't imagine what it would have been like to grow up here, where horror was waiting around every corner.

They took her to a long concrete building with a low ceiling. All of the men had to duck down in order to go through the doorway. Annabeth followed them in, her entire body shaking.

The building was just one long room filled with about fifty tables. On the left, there was a buffet that opened into a dirty-looking kitchen. Annabeth figured this was the mess hall and she couldn't help but be disgusted by the idea of eating food made in that disgusting kitchen.

They sat her down at a long table in the middle. None of the men sat down with her, opting to stand instead. Luke stood on the opposite end of the table, facing her. He had his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed. It was obvious that he was the leader of the group.

"What's your name?" he asked her. Annabeth stared at him, her eyes wide with fear, and she didn't say a word. Luke repeated his question, his tone of voice a little bit more forceful and irritated. The fear in Annabeth grew, yet she still didn't say anything.

She hadn't said anything in ten years.

"What, are you mute?" Luke demanded in anger? His eyes were ablaze and Annabeth was afraid. She nodded meekly, hating that there were tears gathering in her eyes, hating that she was so weak and vulnerable.

Being mute was her last defense. She'd seen how terribly cruel the world could be. She'd experienced it. She had found herself in the darkest of places at just six years old, and the only way she could find to deal with such cruelty was to simply stop acknowledging it. So she'd stopped talking. She hadn't said a word since she was six years old, not even when her aunt and uncle practiced their own hidden evil on her. Not even when the government had dragged her to a place which she didn't belong. Not even when she woke up screaming from the nightmares.

Not even now, when words could save her. She'd grown so accustomed to not talking that she wasn't even sure her voice still worked.

"So," Luke said, mildly impressed. "We have a mute. This should be interesting." The men surrounding her all shared a harmonious evil laugh and a chill ran through Annabeth's body.

"Here's how this works, Mute," Luke said. "There's a system to the way things run here. We're not just a big group of criminals running around and causing chaos. We have leaders, or a sort of government, you could say." Luke grinned a perfectly shiny grin. "I'm the man in charge. I decide who survives and who gets killed. I get to decide your fate. And these are my men." He gestured to the nine men surrounding him. "If you step outta line, they're the ones who're gonna take care of you, not those wimpy guards keeping watch. And they ain't very nice, you got it?"

Annabeth swallowed down a lump in her throat and nodded. Luke nodded back before continuing. "Now here's how this works. You passed the first test. You successfully entered the Pit. And in the Pit, we don't have time for weaklings. You gotta pass three other tests before we let you live. The first is getting food. Food is scarce here and you gotta prove yourself in order to eat. You got three days to pass that. If you don't pass it, we kill you. If you do, you move on to the next test: surviving an attack. It's survival of the fittest here and if you can't hold yourself in a fight then we ain't got room for you. And the last one changes depending on the person, but it's usually surviving a storm. We get some pretty nasty ones out here and our numbers go down after every single one." He paused to take in Annabeth's reaction before saying, "If you pass all of the tests, then you get the best reward of all: your life." He snickered and Annabeth took a deep breath.

 _I'm going to die_ , she thought. _I'm going to die here in this hellhole._

Luke jutted his chin out at one of the men. "Nathan, take her out," he instructed. The man – Nathan – nodded and grabbed Annabeth's arm, harshly pulling her up and away from the table. Annabeth let out a cry of shock. Nathan and the other men snickered at her weakness.

"Don't forget, Mute," Luke called to her as they walked out of the building. "Three days or we kill you."

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

The compound was almost like a neighborhood, Annabeth thought. If that neighborhood had brothels every six houses and street fights in every corner.

Nathan kept a tight grip on Annabeth's arm as he dragged her through the streets, weaving through the massive crowds of people. Annabeth still couldn't believe how many were here. Back in Elysium, the streets had been crowded with cars, not people. The houses had been more spread apart than in the Pit, where the most space between the houses had been three feet. While all of the houses in Elysium had been colorful three-story mansions, all unique in their own way, these houses here were small and flat and standard, made out of concrete. There was no electricity. As far as she could tell, the mess hall seemed to be the only place _with_ electricity.

She decided to study Nathan as they walked. He looked like he was in his early twenties, so he was quite a few years older than her. He had dark brown hair that looked perfectly mussed up. He was at least half a foot taller than Annabeth and he had dark, tan skin that Annabeth knew all of the girls would be sighing over back in Elysium. In fact, Nathan was the exact kind of guy that the girls in Elysium would be all over, with his angular jawline and long, dark eyelashes. He was handsome. Annabeth would give him that.

It seemed like they had been walking for ages when they finally stopped in front of a concrete house that looked exactly like the hundreds they had just passed. The number 256 was painted in black above the wooden door. Annabeth stared at it, unable to believe that this was her life now. This was her home.

"You'll be staying with Clarisse," Nathan said. It was the first thing he'd said since they'd started walking. "She arrived a month ago, and already passed all of the tests." He let go of Annabeth's arm and she rubbed it. "She looks tougher than you, Mute, just to warn you."

Nathan chuckled and gazed at her. It unnerved Annabeth, his stare. "You sure are pretty when you do that," he murmured. He stepped closer to Annabeth. Annabeth took a step back. "Tell me," he continued, completely unfazed by Annabeth's reluctance to be near to him. "How did a girl like you end up getting stuck in the Pit? You look about as dangerous as a flower."

Annabeth spit in his face. No way was she allowing him to get any nearer to her.

"Gah!" Nathan cried, wiping Annabeth's saliva out of his eye. His gaze was bloodthirsty when he looked at her again. "You're going to regret that, Mute," he threatened. "Watch your back." With that, he stalked off, muttering about stupid girls thinking they know everything.

Annabeth relaxed a bit when he left. She ran a hand through her hair, trying not to think about the fact that this was her new home. This was her new reality. A place where criminals ran wild and hurting people was normal. She didn't belong here. She wasn't evil.

Taking a deep breath, Annabeth gathered herself together and decided it was best that she go inside and meet her new roommate. Anyone had to be better than the scumbag she'd just spit on. She walked inside and was surprised to see that the room was bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside, though that really wasn't saying much. The room was barely big enough for two people to live. It had two cots on opposite sides of the room with a couple thin blankets on each. There was a small chest at the foot of each bed and a toilet in the two back corners behind the beds. Two curtains hung in front of each bed, offering some semblance of privacy.

It could be worse, she thought. At least she had a place to stay in this hellhole.

"And what do we have here?" a female voice called from the right side of the room. Annabeth looked over and saw a monster of a girl about Annabeth's age sitting over on the bed. She had long, stringy brown hair that was thrown up in a messy ponytail and dark brown eyes that glinted red in the light. She was tall, very tall, and had a good seven or eight inches on Annabeth. She wasn't slight, like Annabeth was, but she wasn't huge either. Her muscular build made Annabeth think of an athlete.

The girl laughed, delighted. "A newbie!" She took a minute to look Annabeth over before chuckling to herself. "You won't last another day in the Pit," she said. She hopped up off the bed and stuck out her sweaty, grime-covered hand. "I'm Clarisse LaRue," she said. Annabeth hesitantly stuck out her own hand and Clarisse shook it. She shot Annabeth a questioning eyebrow, waiting for Annabeth to answer something that she never could.

"Can you talk, Blondie?" Clarisse asked. Annabeth shook her head solemnly. Clarisse stared at her for a second before bursting into laughter. Annabeth looked at her, confused.

"That's perfect," Clarisse said. "Just perfect. My new roommate is a mute!"

Annabeth's face turned red. She kept her gaze down, staring at the floor. She'd been experiencing this kind of reaction for years, and every single time it happened, it sent on a brand new wave of embarrassment. She was mute and she'd never be able to speak like a normal person.

 _You can_ , a tiny voice in her head whispered. _You can speak if you want to. All you have to do is open your mouth._

But she could never do that.

Clarisse seemed to notice Annabeth's embarrassment. "No, no," she said, still giggling a little bit. "No, that really is perfect. I'm not a friendly person. When they told me I was getting a roommate, I wasn't very happy about it." She rolled her eyes. "You being mute is perfect. Now I can just pretend that you're not there."

Annabeth wasn't really sure how to take that. She supposed she understood Clarisse. Annabeth wasn't the friendliest person out there either. After all, she was mute.

"That's your side," Clarisse said, gesturing to Annabeth's left. "I'll probably keep my curtain closed most of the time, so see you around." With that, Clarisse closed the curtain on her side, leaving Annabeth alone.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Annabeth jerked awake at the sound that rang throughout the Pit. Her heart was pounding in her chest and her eyes were wide. The sound resembled that of a blow horn, or an alarm. She was still frozen in place when Clarisse ripped open the curtain that hid Annabeth from her.

"Rise and shine, Blondie," she said, her eyes still bleary from sleep. "Better hurry if we wanna make it to breakfast on time." Then she was gone.

Annabeth sat in her bed for a second, the blankets still twisted around her. She tried to catch her breath and think straight. Breakfast. Breakfast meant food. Luke had said that she had three days in order to get food or he would kill her. And while the consequence of her not finding food seemed rather dire, how hard could it really be?

Annabeth realized exactly how hard it could be when she made it to the mess hall five minutes later.

It was a zoo. She wasn't exaggerating. People were fighting over scraps of food all around her like wild animals. When a person did have food, they stuffed it into their mouths so quick and intensely, it was like they hadn't eaten in days. Annabeth supposed that maybe they _hadn't_.

As she stood in the doorway, an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness crept up on her. How could she ever get food when every meal would be like this? There was no way she would pass Luke's test. She would be dead in three days.

Her stomach growled. She might be dead in less than three days if she didn't eat. The last meal she'd had was at her aunt and uncle's house before the test.

She took a step inside, her eyes roaming the room. The table in the middle, the one that she had sat at yesterday with Luke, was covered with food. Annabeth figured that she could go over there and get some, but she would probably lose an eye in the process. It seemed like half of the population of the Pit were crawling all over each other in an attempt to get just a bite of the bread and fruit covering the table.

Annabeth swallowed down the panic that was crawling up her throat. She still had three whole days. That was nine meals. If she sat here and watched, she could strategize and be prepared for lunch. She was certain that she could get herself some food at lunch, even if it was just a bite of bread.

Feeling content with this new plan, she held her head up high and walked over to one of the tables where there was the least amount of fighting and she sat down. Her eyes continued to roam the expanse of the room. All she had to do was target the weak ones. She saw a girl over in the corner munching on a slice of bread. She was thin and small and looked like she was sixteen as well as Annabeth. Annabeth figured that she could take her if she needed to and made a mental note to remember her.

She moved her eyes away and caught Luke's gaze. He stood against a wall, a half-eaten banana in his hands. Nobody was trying to fight him. Nobody was bothering him. He watched Annabeth with a sly smile, like her suffering and hunger was amusing to him.

A chill went through her. Suddenly, she realized that the center of this man's attention was a very bad place to be.

"What, you too high and mighty to eat?" a gruff voice said next to her. Annabeth tore her gaze away from Luke and looked to the man sitting beside her. He was so tall that Annabeth had to crane her neck back in order to look at him. He looked oddly familiar, like one would look if you passed them on the street one day. He was slender, but muscular – Annabeth could see the shadow of muscles beneath his shirt. His hair was midnight black and stuck up at odd angles, like he was constantly running his hands through it. His eyes were green and framed by long and dark eyelashes that Annabeth knew would be the envy of every girl back in Elysium. And they were cold as the man glared at her.

Suddenly finding it difficult to breathe, Annabeth shook her head. The man snorted and rolled his eyes. "Better gather together a little toughness, girl, or you won't last another day out here." He shook his head, like Annabeth's lack of strength amazed him, and went back to eating his food. Annabeth was surprised to see that he had so much. In the small circle he'd made with his arms, there was a banana, some strawberries, and at least half of a loaf of bread. Annabeth stared at it, wondering how cruel and monstrous he'd have to be in order to gain that much food and not having a hoard of people at his back trying to take it from him.

She stared at the strawberries, thinking that if she could just swipe one, her life would be spared. She would pass Luke's test.

They were red. And ripe. And so, so tempting.

As if her hand had a mind of its own, she reached out when the man was looking away and wrapped her fingers around a small strawberry. Almost immediately, the man's own hand reached out and grabbed her wrist, twisting it until the strawberry fell out of her hand. Annabeth watched it, her eyes welling up with tears. She had been so close.

The man twisted her wrist even harder and Annabeth let out a cry. He leaned forward until she could feel his hot breath on her face. "Nobody steals my food, you hear?" he threatened. Annabeth nodded and he let go of her wrist. Annabeth scrambled out her seat, aching to get out of there and away from that man. But then he stopped her in her tracks with one word.

"Annabeth."

It felt like the entire mess hall went silent, though everyone still carried on with their futile battle for food. Annabeth froze, her heart pounding.

 _How do you know my name?!_ she wanted to scream. Her throat clamped shut, though, just like it did every time she was close to speaking aloud.

She turned and caught his eye. How did he know her? He did look familiar, but Annabeth remembered most everyone she knew in Elysium. She studied him, frantically trying to put a name to a face.

"You don't remember me," the man said, shaking his head bitterly. He looked up at her. "But I remember you. Annabeth Chase. You're the girl who doesn't speak."

Hearing her name in the Pit felt weird. It was like hearing you speak on a voice recording. Slightly off. Not quite right.

The man cleared his throat. "I'm Percy Jackson," he said. Then he went back to eating.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Percy Jackson. It was all coming back, now. She remembered him. He was two years older than her, but Annabeth had always been in the advanced classes in school, so she was used to having classes with the older kids. She remembered him, though she had never spoken to him. He had been the quiet one in the class, the one everyone had thought was dumb and retarded. His twin, Ryland, had been the popular one, the one everyone admired and the one every girl had a crush on. Percy had been the bad boy, the one whom everyone knew was going to the Pit when he turned sixteen.

And when he did turn sixteen, it had been quite the incident. Percy had gone into the town hall to take his test. When he was dragged out ten hours later, kicking and yelling, the entire city had stopped everything they were doing to watch. Annabeth had been there, just fourteen at the time. She had seen the desperation in his eyes, heard the panic in his screams. She knew exactly how Percy felt. She'd screamed like that herself.

The next day, it was announced that Percy's twin, Ryland Jackson, had died during his test.

Rumor had it that during his own test, Percy Jackson had killed a man.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Annabeth had never felt hunger like this. She was ravenous. She was desperate. Her stomach was a yawning chasm, ready to devour anything that came her way.

Nothing did come her way. Annabeth's strategy for trying to take the food away from that girl had been shot when she'd found that girl dead on the floor at lunch, trampled to death by starving people.

Dinner had brought even worse luck. Annabeth had been hungry enough to chance it and fight through the hungry mob surrounding the table. She came out with a twisted ankle, a black eye, and no food.

The next day brought the same thing. No food. Annabeth's hope was like a thin thread and the scissors were fast approaching. Every meal, she would see Luke, eating happily while smiling at her, like he was going to enjoy killing her. And Annabeth knew her death was coming. She was weak from not eating for two days straight, weaker than normal. The heat was horrible and with no water, she was throwing up with dehydration. She was sweaty and sick and absolutely miserable.

 _You gotta pass three other tests before we let you live. The first is getting food. Food is scarce here and you gotta prove yourself in order to eat. You got three days to pass that. If you don't pass it, we kill you._

Annabeth sat up. Her stomach was growling so loud, she was sure Clarisse could hear it through the curtain. But that didn't matter. An idea was forming in her head.

Luke never said that the food had to be retrieved at mealtime. He had just instructed her to get food. If she tried to get food from the mess hall, then she would be dead by tomorrow. But if she got it from someplace other than the mess hall . . .

Annabeth's brain was whirring. Slowly, she climbed off of her bed and onto Clarisse's side of the room. The girl was passed out on her bed and snoring so loudly, Annabeth would probably have to bring the entire house down before she woke her up. Still, she made sure she was as quiet as a mouse as she snuck over to the chest at the foot of the bed and opened it. She searched through all of the items in there, celebrating inside when she drew out a burlap satchel. She threw it on over her shoulder, closed the chest, and scurried out of the house.

The sky was black but spattered with stars as Annabeth sprinted towards the mess hall. She silently thanked any gods out there that everyone she missed dismissed her and didn't try to stop her. Her adrenaline was pumping and her heart was racing and if she was stopped now, she thought she might collapse.

She made it to the mess hall in three minutes and found it blessedly empty. Glancing around to make sure no one was following her, she snuck around to the back, searching for a back door or an open window or something. Going in through the front door would seem too suspicious.

Her heart leapt when she spotted a window in the back. Then it sunk again when she saw that the window was higher than she could reach. She cursed internally and whirled around, searching for something that would serve as a stool to get her up to the window.

What she found was a person.

Annabeth jumped and covered her mouth just as a little shriek came out. She backed up, but ran into the building. Percy Jackson was standing in front of her, his hands in his pockets.

"Sorry," he said, biting his lip. "I just – I saw you running this way and I was curious, so I followed you. I didn't mean to scare you. What are you doing over here?"

Annabeth stayed plastered against the wall, staring at him with wide eyes.

Percy took a hand out of his pocket and scratched the back of his head. "Oh yeah. You don't talk."

Annabeth watched him as he awkwardly stood there, trying to figure out what to say. She figured that if he was going to hurt her, he would have done it by now. She took a step away from the wall, thinking that if he wasn't here to hurt her, she might as well try to get him to help her. She walked over to him and grabbed his arm, then pointed up to the window.

"You need to get through that window?" he asked. Annabeth nodded, giving him a small smile. He nodded back, like he was confirming her confirmation. Then he grabbed her arm and dragged her over to the wall. Getting down on one knee, he made a little step with his hands and looked up expectantly at her.

"You step on my hands and I'll lift you up to the window," he explained.

Annabeth gave him a wary look, to which he rolled his eyes at. "Oh please, you're not that heavy. You look about as light as a feather."

Annabeth still didn't move.

"Look, Annabeth," he said, a bit irritated. "We can stand over here as long as you'd like, but pretty soon, the guards are going to come and do their rounds over here and we're gonna get busted for trying to sneak into the kitchen. So you can either trust me or wait to die."

Annabeth stepped onto his hands, using his head to balance herself. Percy stood suddenly and Annabeth went flying towards the window. She tumbled inside with a yelp and landed on a counter. She tumbled off, landing in a crumpled heap on the ground. She stayed there for a minute, her entire body aching, before she remembered what Percy said about the guards. She hopped up, her eyes immediately searching the room for any kind of food.

The kitchen looked clear. There was nothing on any of the counters and nothing on the big island in the middle. Annabeth walked over to the fridge and opened it, only to find it completely empty. She bit her lip and walked over to the pantry, finding it empty as well. She ran over to the cabinets, going through each one. Finding each cabinet empty, panic rose in her throat. She slammed the last one shut, not caring that it made a loud bang. Running a frustrated hand through her hair, she allowed her eyes another desperate search of the room.

This was it. She was going to die tomorrow. Luke was going to kill her and it was all because she was too weak to find food. What a pathetic way to die. She stalked back over to the window.

 _Creak._

Annabeth stopped dead in her tracks. She glanced around the room, searching for a quick hiding place, before she realized that the noise she heard had been made by her own foot. She looked down and put weight on her right foot.

 _Creak._

Annabeth fell to the ground and pried open the loose panel. When she saw what was inside, she almost burst into tears.

Food. It was food. Bread, meat, fruit, veggies. Annabeth dug her hand in, grabbing a couple loaves of bread, some strawberries, a few bananas, and a couple handfuls of carrots. She stuffed it all in her bag and put the panel back in its place. She counted and made sure that she remembered which one it was before making a beeline for the window.

Percy was still waiting underneath it. When he saw Annabeth poking her head out, he told her to jump for it and he'd catch her. Annabeth hesitated, but did as he told her, clutching the satchel tight against her. She landed in Percy's arms, who caught her like he was catching an inflatable ball. When he set her down, Annabeth gave him a smile – a real one, one that she meant. His cheeks grew red.

"You were sneaking in for food, weren't you," he said. "Because of Luke's test."

Annabeth nodded. He stared at her for a minute before saying, "Come on. I'll take you to his house."

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Annabeth dumped the bag of food onto Luke's bed. Luke stared at it with disbelieving eyes.

"Where'd you get all this?" he finally asked. Annabeth shrugged, saying without words that it didn't matter. He stared at her long and hard, like he was trying to find the answer by reading her. Finally, his face broke out in a smile. "Well done," he said. "You passed the first test. I didn't think you had it in you."

Annabeth couldn't help smiling back. She didn't think she'd had it in her either.

Her smile was wiped away, however, when Luke continued, "Your next test is surviving an attack. I'll have some of my men do the job sometime soon, so watch your back." With that, he handed Annabeth her satchel, now refilled with the food she'd stole, and left the room.

Annabeth stood there, clutching the bag of food. She'd been so focused on passing the first test that she'd completely forgotten about the others. Annabeth had grown up in Elysium. Whenever she was beaten, the best thing to do was wait until her aunt or uncle had used up all of their anger. She'd never actually been in a fight where she'd have to fight for her life.

She'd felt so good about finding food, but how on earth could she survive this next test?

 **So this is the first part of a three-shot. I hoped you all liked it! Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: All PJO characters belong to Rick Riordan.**

The Pit

Annabeth glanced behind her as she made her way down the street, giving out a tiny sigh of relief when she didn't see anyone suspicious following her. Ever since Luke had told her to watch her back, she had done just that. Her nerves were on edge, making her jumpy and irritable. She couldn't sleep at night for fear that they would attack her in her bed. She had the heavy bags under her eyes to show for it too. Even Clarisse was noticing the difference in her, giving her knowing looks and smirking like Annabeth's jumpiness brought back fond memories. Annabeth wouldn't be surprised if it did. When Clarisse had first gotten to the Pit, being attacked had probably felt like a surprise birthday party. She just seemed like the type of person that enjoyed hurting others.

Annabeth wove in and out of people's way, keeping her head down. She hoped she looked inconspicuous, with her blonde curls plaited into a long braid that fell down her back and the new clothes that she had snatched out of a woman's satchel in the mess hall while she was distracted, fighting for food. She had stolen a pair of ripped up skinny jeans that were a bit snug a little too short and a long sleeve navy shirt with a wide neckline. Annabeth found that the shirt was perfect for the heat; the material was thin and the open neck brought cool air to her sweaty skin. She still didn't have any shoes and her feet ached as she walked. They were covered with dirt and her toes were crusty with dried blood from where she had stepped on something sharp.

Her own satchel, overflowing with stolen food, hit her thigh as she walked. Annabeth kept a tight hand on it, knowing that if anyone saw what was inside of it, she would be caught and most likely killed for robbery. That's what they did here. They killed anyone who committed a crime – not for _committing_ the crime, but for getting caught. Annabeth had seen more executions than she could count, and she'd only been here for almost two weeks.

That thought made her uneasy. She'd been here for two weeks and Luke's men had yet to attack her. Annabeth wasn't naïve enough to think that he'd forgotten about her. She knew that they were just biding their time, stalking her, studying her, trying to find her weakness so that they could manipulate it. Every day that passed brought her one day closer to the attack and that thought nearly killed her.

She felt someone fall into step next to her. Annabeth looked up and found that it was Percy. The corners of his mouth tipped up into what could almost be interpreted as a shy smile before they fell back into a scowl. Annabeth figured that that was just his natural resting face. He scowled so much.

"Um, hi," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Annabeth gave him a look that she hoped he took as her way of replying. He seemed to, because he continued, "Yeah. Hey. I, uh, I have something to give you, but it's kind of a secret and I'm not supposed to have it, so can you sneak by my place tonight so I can give it to you?" He said it all in one breath and Annabeth thought that he never did anything halfway.

Annabeth had learned a lot about Percy Jackson in the two weeks since she'd met him. For instance, she learned that he lived six houses up from hers. His roommate was a guy named Grover Underwood who was crippled and bleated when he was nervous. He made a living by street fighting and he was really good at it too, which was why nobody messed with him, even Luke and his men. She found herself studying him at random moments. Everything Percy did was passionate and desperate, like it was his last day to live. Annabeth found herself wishing she could be like that instead of being fearful all the time.

She stopped walking and turned to face him. They were in the middle of the street, people bustling around them, children and adults alike. A thought occurred to her. What if Percy was helping Luke? What if his proposition of a gift was actually a set-up to draw her in so he could attack her? Annabeth had seen Percy fight. She knew that she wouldn't stand a chance against him.

"Please," Percy added softly, biting his lip. Annabeth couldn't help noticing that that was a habit of his when he got nervous or uncomfortable.

She would have to face the test sooner or later. So Annabeth nodded and Percy nodded back. "Okay," he said. "Cool. I guess I'll, uh, see you tonight?" Annabeth smiled and he took off jogging back in the direction he came from. Annabeth watched him go. Unease settled in her stomach, but whether it was because of a supposed attack tonight or because she was going to Percy Jackson's house remained a mystery.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

For the first week, Annabeth had been too afraid to leave her room. She'd leave to go steal food out of the kitchen when her supply ran out, and she snuck outside every once in a wall when she needed a breath of fresh air, but that was it. When she finally got tired of sitting around and daydreaming, she had taken to exploring.

Annabeth was an explorer. She always had been. Her aunt and uncle's mansion had been huge, with hidden hallways and secret rooms all over the place. Despite everything that went on inside, Annabeth loved the house. She supposed she liked it so much _because_ of everything that went on inside. All of the secret nooks and crannies had provided Annabeth with something to do. For hours, she would wander around, pretending to be a world famous explorer and every new place would be a new continent that she had discovered. Those new "continents" would serve as great hiding places at night, when she hid from all of the terror that had gone on around her.

So it seemed appropriate that Annabeth explore her new home and try to find hiding places. (She would probably need them sometime soon, anyway.) So far, in the week she had been exploring, she had discovered an alley about three streets down from her house that didn't seem to host street fights. She had found a crevice in between two buildings up by the mess hall that she fit into perfectly. Her most interesting discover had been a chasm that went on for miles in the back of the Pit, serving as the fourth wall. It looked like something that belonged in a mountain rage, not in the middle of a desert. When Clarisse had caught her checking it out, she'd told her that it had been there since the beginning.

"The Pit is named after it," she'd explained. "Folks used to call it the Grand Canyon hundreds of years ago. At least, that's what all the books say." When she saw Annabeth staring wistfully across it, she snorted. "Hey, don't even think about. Rumor has it that there's an invisible barrier about halfway across it took keep us all in. And even if there wasn't, you'd die anyway. There's no escape through there."

Annabeth had read about the Grand Canyon. It had been a huge chasm located in Arizona, one of the world's natural wonders. Then the storms came and ravaged the whole world, turning Arizona and half of the country of America into a huge desert with rolling sand dunes and a scorching sun. The Grand Canyon then became a death zone and anyone brave enough to try to travel through it died from the avalanches or lack of food and drink. No one had ever told her that the Pit was right up against it. No one had ever told her or anyone else where the Pit was at all.

Annabeth stood now at the edge of the Canyon, staring out across it. She remembered what Clarisse had said about an invisible barrier, but there was nothing that indicated that – no glint in the sun, no disturbed soil. She wondered if that was just a rumor or if it was really true. Or what if there was something even worse down there?

Annabeth perked up when she heard hushed voices coming from behind her. Her skin prickled and her heart began beating faster. She looked around for somewhere to hide, but other than the gaping chasm in front of her, there wasn't anything. The sand dunes blocked her from sight for now, but the path that lead out here would lead right to her. And every second, the voices were getting closer. Annabeth could almost make out words now.

Desperately, she looked down. Three feet below her was a small ledge. Without thinking, she leaped down and landed on it, crouching down as far as she could go. She figured she was safe when the men reached the spot she had just been sitting and carried on their conversation like nothing was out of place.

"I need more time," a voice Annabeth recognized as Luke's begged. "Please. Tell him I just need another month, or a couple weeks, at the least."

"I'll tell him." Annabeth didn't recognize this voice. "But you're treading dangerous water now, Castellan. The boss took a risk when he hired you. Don't make him regret his decision."

"I won't, sir," Luke said and Annabeth thought that he sounded much younger, like a little boy trying to impress his father. "I can do this. I swear it."

"I hope so." Annabeth heard the sound of retreating footsteps. She almost stood and climbed back up when she heard Luke's frustrated sigh. She froze, panic hitting her at the thought of how close she'd just come to being discovered. Her heartbeat receded, however, when she heard Luke's own footsteps, indicating that he had left. Annabeth stayed still for another five minutes before she deemed it safe to climb back up.

Who had Luke been speaking to? Annabeth furrowed her eyebrows as she sat on the edge of the cliff. Why had they come all the way out here to talk when they could have just spoken in the mess hall or in Luke's house? What had they been talking about? There were so many questions and every time Annabeth tried to answer one, more questions kept popping into her head.

One thing was for sure, though. If that had been the attack Annabeth had been waiting for, she would have been hopelessly unprepared.

She needed a plan.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

"Annabeth," Percy greeted that night, opening the door wider so she could enter. Annabeth slipped past him, her hungry eyes taking in his house. She thought that it definitely did look more like an actual home than hers did. He had a woven blanket spread across his bed and different kinds of weapons strewn everywhere: guns, darts, throwing knives. He also had a sheathed sword leaning against the wall and a bow and quiver full of arrows next to it, which Annabeth found kind of cool. She had always been into antique stuff back in Elysium. Next to Percy's bed was a small wooden table with ornately carved legs and a pretty pattern engraved in the side. Annabeth ran her hand across it and raised a questioning eyebrow at Percy, who shrugged.

"We're not all criminals here," he said. "There's a guy down the street who likes to carve furniture and stuff. If you do him a favor, he'll make anything you want."

Annabeth smiled and gestured to the weapons. Percy blushed. "That's, uh, that's kind of my thing, I guess. I like to collect weapons." He smiled to himself and made a little laugh, like he was kind of embarrassed about it. "I made the bow and the sword. I bartered with some people for the arrows and got in a bit of a scuffle with a guard for the other stuff. I think I scared him, but he gives me anything I ask for, so it works out."

Annabeth wondered what it would be like to be so powerful that even the security guards are scared of you. Looking at Percy, she could understand. He was intimidating, and it wasn't just because of how strong he was. He carried himself with the confidence of a king, even though she was learning that he was humility in human form. His eyes held a fire that burned bright when he was fighting. It was like he was angry at the world for something, though she had no idea what. Sometimes, when she looked at Percy, she found herself thinking about the day he was dragged out of Elysium, the day his brother died. She wondered again what had happened, if he had really killed his brother like everyone assumed. She wondered about him and then wondered why she cared so much.

She realized she was staring – and that Percy was staring back – and looked down quickly, her face turning red. Percy cleared his throat and said, "Right. Well, I have something for you. Just hold a second while I grab it." He moved over to the chest and began digging through it, throwing out clothes and papers and other random items as he searched. Finally, he stood up and handed something to Annabeth.

Annabeth's face heated. It was a chalkboard. Percy had given her a chalkboard.

"Now you can talk," he said in a quiet voice and Annabeth looked up at him, tears in her eyes. Without thinking, she took a step forward and wrapped her arms around his torso. Percy was as stiff as a board in her arms until he relaxed a few seconds later and hugged her back. And Annabeth hadn't felt so safe since her parents died.

"I snatched it from the school," Percy explained, pulling away from her. "That's why I couldn't give it to you in front of everyone. They've got a billion of them, so I don't think they'll miss it, but I just wanted to be careful. Oh, and the chalk's over here. But now, you can just right what you want to say any time you want. I can get more chalk when you run out."

Annabeth took the chalk out of his hands and began to write on the board. She tilted it away from Percy, who not very subtly tried to see what she was writing. When she was done, she turned it around and watched as Percy slowly read what was written there.

 _Will you teach me to fight?_

Percy's eyebrows furrowed. Then they smoothed out with understanding. "Luke's test," he said. Annabeth nodded. He stared at her for a minute too long and said, "Okay. I'll teach you." Annabeth smiled, but it was wiped off her face when Percy continued, "But, you have to promise me something in return. You have to swear that you won't break it, okay?"

Annabeth nodded, even though she had no idea what she could possibly have to offer.

"Promise me," Percy said, "that you won't come to my street fights. You'll stay away from them. Okay?" He looked at Annabeth with pleading eyes, though Annabeth wasn't sure what the big deal was. She nodded anyway and Percy nodded back, content with her answer. "Okay," he continued. "Good. I guess we can start tomorrow morning. Meet me by the canyon after breakfast."

Annabeth nodded and scribbled something on her chalkboard, showing it to Percy before she walked to the door.

 _Thank you._

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

"You're weak."

Annabeth glared at Percy. Sweat was dripping down her face and she'd taken off her shirt long ago, opting to work out in the thin tank top she wore underneath. She hadn't missed the way Percy's eyes had traveled up and down her body when she'd stripped the shirt and she was confused when she found that she kind of liked his attention, even if it was for a second.

"It's not your fault," he quickly amended, offering her a hand and pulling her to her feet. He had just knocked her down for the twenty-seventh time that morning like it was nothing. He'd barely even broken a sweat. "Your body is small and doesn't have room for a lot of muscle. In a test of strength, you'd be the first to die."

Annabeth shot him a look that said, _you're doing a terrible job_. He threw his hands up in the air. "I'm sorry!" he defended himself. "It had to be said. But just because you don't have a lot of muscle doesn't mean you can't be a good fighter. Half of fighting is evading your opponent. You're quick. All you have to do is stay out of your opponent's grasp and search for their weakness. Once you find it, then you make you move." He walked over to her until he was a hair's breadth away. Annabeth's breath hitched. She stopped breathing all together when Percy's fingers danced across her throat.

"You want to hit here," he said and Annabeth cursed him for sounding so cool and collected when she felt like a nebula collapsing. His fingers left her throat and brushed back the hair at her temple. "Or here." His fingers pressed a little against her temple before they came down and traced the line of her cheekbone. Annabeth looked up at him and it was like they were under a spell, staring at each other and not saying a word.

Then Percy cleared his throat and the spell was broken. Annabeth all but jumped away from him, wondering what on earth just happened. Thankfully, Percy continued on like nothing was wrong. "Those two places are perfect targets for getting your opponent down. Once they fall, you kick them in the gut or the head as hard as you can. If you do it enough times, it'll be enough to keep them down and that's what you want."

Annabeth nodded. It made sense. She got into a fighting position again, waiting for Percy to follow in suit. Instead, he ran a hand through his hair and said, "I think we should take a break, Annabeth. You're exhausted. I can tell."

Annabeth shook her head. She couldn't quit now. She could beat him this time, she knew it. And what if Luke's men attacked her that day? She needed practice. She needed to be prepared. She couldn't just _quit._

Percy stared at her before giving in with a sigh. He got into his own fighting position and the two circled each other for a minute. Annabeth waited for him to make the first move. She knew from experience and her aching tailbone that if she made the first move, Percy would have her flat on her back in seconds. So she waited and jumped to the right when Percy jabbed his fist towards his torso. She stayed on her toes, just as Percy had told her, and ducked when he made another jab at her head. Immediately after, he swung his foot towards her, to which she rolled out of the way and jumped back up to her feet, her lips turning up in a smile. This was the longest she'd lasted against Percy all morning. She decided to make her own move and swung her leg up, kicking Percy in the gut. He grunted and furrowed his eyebrows, looking at her in a new light. He reached out and before Annabeth was able to jump out of the way, he grabbed her arm and twirled her around until her back was pressed against his front and he had her in a headlock. She gasped and acted on instinct, elbowing him in the gut. His arm loosened and Annabeth slipped out of his grip. She went for a punch, aiming for his temple, like he's taught her to do. But he caught her fist and in one fluid motion, punched her in the gut.

All of the air left Annabeth's body. She fell to her knees, gasping for breath, breath that she knew would never come. Images passed through her mind, ones that she hadn't allowed herself to think of. It was like the punch had awakened that part of her brain, the part that housed all of her bad memories. She dropped her head in her hands and rocked back and forth, her lips moving but no noise coming out. She saw broken bottles and felt the glass rain down on her, scratching up her face. She was a little girl again, curled up on her bedroom floor as her cousins took turns kicking and spitting on her. Her Aunt Mary was there too, telling her cousins to play nice before throwing Annabeth a dirty rag and telling her to clean the floors because they had company coming over. And then her Uncle James appeared with his ever constant beer bottles and flaring temper, yelling at her as Annabeth cried on the ground.

"Annabeth!" she heard someone yelling. "Annabeth!"

Annabeth felt someone's hands on her back. She jumped, her eyes flying open, and saw Percy crouched down next to her. His hands were rubbing her back and his eyes were confused, but worried. Annabeth stared at him, trying to catch her breath. Finally, when she was able to breathe normally again, she scrambled around in her satchel, drawing out the chalkboard. Percy waited patiently.

 _Sorry,_ she wrote. _Panic attack._

Percy's eyes drifted from the chalkboard to Annabeth's face. He studied her, like he was trying to read her secrets. Annabeth swallowed, knowing that what just happened was the closest he would ever get to knowing her secrets. It was the closest anyone would ever get. Annabeth was a secret room and she'd thrown away the key long ago.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Annabeth trained with Percy every morning for the next week. She noticed an improvement in her fighting and so had Percy. Now she was able to fight with him for almost five minutes straight before he knocked her down. He was gentler with her, though, ever since she'd had her panic attack. His hits weren't as hard and when she fell, he was always falling to her side to make sure that she didn't have any injuries. Annabeth wanted to let him know that she wasn't sure that's how a self-defense teacher was supposed to treat his student, but she found herself enjoying the attention a lot more than she should.

But with each passing day, Annabeth grew more and more uneasy. That was almost three weeks now and no sign of an attack. If Luke was trying to unnerve her, it was working. She was always glancing behind her when she was walking through town and she still wasn't getting any sleep at night. Her trips to the mess hall to steal food were getting less and less frequent, and when she did go, she made sure that Percy was with her. She made sure that Percy was with her when she went anywhere, really. She felt safer when she was with him.

But there were places she couldn't go with Percy, like the baths. She supposed she could just ask him to escort her there and have him stand outside while she showered, but she felt like that took their arrangement a step too far.

The baths were two small concrete buildings that sat in the middle of the Pit, side by side. Inside the women's was a long hallway full of showers, each growing an impressive amount of mold and fungus. The water was always freezing cold and Annabeth was fairly sure that the cuts on her feet were infected from the filthy ground. There was no electricity and in the mornings, the building was close to bursting from all of the women inside. But it was a place to clean herself and Annabeth was grateful for it.

She usually took her showers at night before she went to bed because there were only a few other women in there at that time. That's why Annabeth was so surprised when she was walking outside after a shower and heard a male voice say, "Hey, Blondie."

Annabeth whirled around, confused. No one ever called her Blondie except for Clarisse. It all made sense, though, when she saw Luke.

He looked like he'd just taken a shower as well. His hair was wet and curled at his forehead. He wore a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt that clung tight to his muscles. Annabeth's face heated up unexpectedly when she saw him. He looked good.

She gave him a small smile and waited for him to catch up with her before she started walking again. They continued on in silence for a few minutes and Annabeth wondered when Luke was going to say something or if he would just walk her to her door without a word. Finally, he said, "It's smart to take late night showers. Not as many people."

Annabeth gave him a sideways glance, biting back a smile. Luke caught her eye and they both began laughing.

"Sorry," Luke apologized. "I guess I'm just not very good with this whole small talk thing."

Annabeth laughed and gestured to herself as if to say, _well, neither am I._ Luke laughed and Annabeth decided that she liked the sound of it. It made her feel like she was listening to the sound of the wind blowing through fields of tall grass.

"I wanna show you something," Luke said. Annabeth stopped walking and looked at him. He gave her a smile and asked, "Can I take you somewhere?"

She wasn't dumb. She knew that this man had threatened to kill her more than once and that his offer was more than likely an ambush. But she had to get this over with sooner or later, and if it wasn't, then Annabeth thought that she more than deserved to do something for fun after all of the training she'd done with Percy.

Percy. Maybe Annabeth should bring him along, just in case. She always fought better when she was with him. But then she looked at Luke's face and decided that whatever it was, she could take it alone.

So she nodded. Luke's smile grew. He grabbed her hand and began to run down the street, dragging Annabeth behind him.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Luke and Annabeth ran all the way to a beaten down path through the sand dunes that Annabeth knew led to the canyon. Her heart was pounding in her chest and it was because of more than just running. Luke stopped and told her to close her eyes.

Annabeth looked at him with wide eyes.

His own eyes brightened with understanding and he shook his head. "No, Blondie, you're not about to get ambushed," he assured her and for some reason, Annabeth believed him. She closed her eyes.

He grabbed her hand again and guided her down the path very slowly. Annabeth took small steps, afraid that she was closer to the cliff than she thought and that she would fall down. Luke had a tight grip on her hand, though, and she felt safe, knowing that he wouldn't let her fall.

They walked for a few minutes until Luke stopped. He didn't let go of her hand, though, and Annabeth tried not to think about what that meant. She waited until he said, "Open your eyes."

She did.

"Look up."

She did.

And the entire universe was above her.

Annabeth gasped, her hungry eyes taking it all in. There were so many stars, she thought. They twinkled and glittered, some of them bigger and brighter than others, but all of them magnificent. Annabeth remembered studying the painting A Starry Night in school and how it was one of the world's most beautiful masterpieces. She compared it to the real starry night that she was standing under and thought that that painting was a child's drawings compared to the real thing.

She looked back down at Luke, who was watching her. "Do you like it?" he asked. She nodded earnestly, a huge smile breaking out across her face. She laughed and looked up at the sky and then down at him and then back up at the sky again. She couldn't get over the fact that he had brought her here, to a real life masterpiece, simply because he wanted to. She wondered if she'd made another friend.

She pulled her chalkboard out of her bag and wrote quickly on it, _Thank you._

Luke nodded and dragged her over to the edge of the canyon so that they could sit with their legs dangling down. "I've been here for four years," he said. His voice sounded wistful and nostalgic, so Annabeth sat back and listened. "I was a puny little sixteen-year-old who barely passed my tests. Everyone was confused about why I was the evil twin. At least, they were until they got close enough to get a good look at my face." He paused, his face twisted into a bitter sneer. Annabeth reached her hand up and traced her fingers along the scar on his face. He closed his eyes and his features smoothed out at Annabeth's touch.

"I didn't adapt as well as you're adapting to life in the Pit. It's always harder for the kids who grew up in Elysium to get used to life in the Pit. It's a big difference. I didn't take the change well. I got depressed, I guess you could say, and didn't really see a point in living if I was only living in this – well, this pit." His lips turned up a little bit at his own joke. "Finally, I got tired of it. I came out here one night. I'm not really sure what I was planning on doing; I don't know if I was gonna try to run away or just go ahead and jump off. I would've ended up dead either way. But then I looked up and say all the stars and realized that there's beauty even in the most messed up of places."

Annabeth had been looking up at the sky. She looked down and saw that Luke was staring at her with an unreadable expression on his face. He glanced down at her lips and Annabeth's stomach turned nervously.

"What's your name?" he asked. It took Annabeth a minute to gather her wits together before she picked up her chalkboard and wrote out her name with a shaky hand. Luke read it, and when he looked at her, his eyes were dark with something Annabeth couldn't understand. He looked back down and at her lips and this time, his gaze stayed there as he whispered, "Annabeth," before kissing her.

Annabeth didn't know what to do. Her heart was screaming at her to stop, but her body had a mind of its own. She found herself kissing Luke back, his tongue prying her mouth open. A gasp escaped her, but he silenced it pretty quickly with a kiss that made her weak in the knees. She found herself being pulled into his lap and didn't know how to handle it.

Percy's face flashed in her mind. She broke the kiss with Luke, her eyes wide. His eyes were halfway closed, a dreamy smile on his face as he leaned in for another kiss. Annabeth stopped him with a hand on his chest. His eyes opened all the way and she shook her head, telling him without words that no, she did not want to kiss him and that she didn't like him like that. Luke stared at her before letting go of her waist. "Alright," he said and his voice was so lost that Annabeth's heart broke for him. "I'm sorry."

Annabeth grabbed his hand and squeezed before she stood and walked back to her house.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Clarisse was waiting for her when she got back.

"I saw the big guy in charge walk by with you," she explained. "I figured I better wait up for you just in case that was an ambush and not a date." She waited for a reply from Annabeth, but Annabeth just walked past her to her bed and closed the curtain. There was a moment of silence on the other side before Clarisse let out a disbelieving laugh and the curtain was pushed to the side.

"Oh no, sweetheart," she said. "Only I am allowed to do that. Not you." She stood with her hands on her hips while Annabeth curled up on the bed. Annabeth didn't want to talk. Annabeth wanted to stay where she was until she withered away and died.

"So it was a date," Clarisse said. Annabeth didn't move, but her emotions were so loud that they were probably projecting to her roommate. Clarisse prodded, "Did he try to kiss you?"

This time, Annabeth responded with a nod.

"And you didn't like it," she guessed. "Wow. You got guts, Blondie, kissing the leader of this whole place. Though, based on your attitude right now, I'd guess it didn't go very well. What, too much tongue?" Annabeth made a face and Clarisse laughed. "What? I do have experience, despite what you might know." Her voice had taken a new tone and Annabeth sat up, raising an eyebrow. There was something Clarisse wasn't telling her.

Clarisse caught her eye and she crossed her arms, her eyes going up to the ceiling. "His name was Chris," she said. "Chris Rodriguez. The most beautiful man I've ever met." She snorted. "You see, Blondie, I grew up here. My parents were both labeled the evil twins and thrown into this hellhole. I've been in here since I was born.

"Chris Rodriguez, he was something else. He'd been born in here too. We went to school together. We'd loved each other for years, but hid it behind half-brained insults yelled from across the school room. And then one day, when we were both fifteen years old, one of our arguments ended with a kiss. And it was the best kiss that the world has ever seen. For a year, we were happy. He was the one bright spot in a dreary world. He was good and he made me want to be good too. But when we turned sixteen, he was gone, whisked off to Elysium while I was stuck here, doomed to be nothing more than evil for the rest of my life.

"We both knew our fates, of course. We both knew that he would be taken to Elysium while I would stay behind. Well, I knew. Chris still chose to believe that the government would see the good in me and send me off to be with him, but I knew better. They didn't see past my temper and labeled me evil because of it. Now, Chris is off probably kissing three different girls at once, that handsome fool, while I'm stuck here with no one." There were tears in Clarisse's eyes and Annabeth pretended not to notice them. She reached out and took the girl's hand, squeezing it and offering her the only comfort that she could. Clarisse smiled at her gratefully and said, "Thanks." Annabeth let go and then Clarisse said, "Annabeth."

She glanced up with a questioning look. Clarisse nodded to the spot beside Annabeth on the bed, where her satchel lay open. Her chalkboard was there also, her name still written on it from when Luke had asked for it. Annabeth looked back up at Clarisse, feeling suddenly emotional at the fact that she knows her name. That she doesn't have to be "Blondie" or "newbie" anymore. People know her name.

"Annabeth," Clarisse repeated, smiling a little bit despite her obvious effort to keep herself from doing just that. Then she turned away and closed Annabeth's curtain behind her.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

"You're improving," Percy noticed, rubbing the spot on his jaw where Annabeth had hit him. She tried not to feel too proud at the compliment, seeing as Percy could still knock her down in three seconds flat if he was really trying.

"Your defense is still a little weak though," he pointed out. "You're trying too hard to get a hit in and it's allowing your opponent to get too many of his own hits in. You have to make sure that you're in a defensive stance at all times, even when you're taking the offense." He got into his own defensive stance to demonstrate. "See?"

Annabeth nodded, trying not to let her eyes linger too long on his shoulders or the way his biceps flex when he makes a fist. She tried to copy his position, only to hopelessly fail. Percy's face turned red with the effort of keeping his laughter in and when Annabeth shifted her feet and crossed her arms, glaring at him, he burst into a fit of laughter.

"Sorry!" he cried out, still laughing. "Sorry! Sorry, I just – you're really cute when you're trying to be tough." His words flew out like he wasn't even thinking, but after they were said, both Percy and Annabeth's faces were red. Annabeth dropped her gaze and Percy awkwardly said, "Right. Well, uh, here. I'll do it again." He got back into his defensive stance. "Your arms need to be up and your hands fisted up by your face. And you need to stay on your toes. Your hips need to be facing you opponent at all times."

Annabeth tried to do what he was saying, but for some reason, it wasn't clicking with her. She let her arms fall down in frustration and Percy walked over to her. "Hey," he said. "It's okay. You'll get this. You're doing great. You just need some help." He grabbed her hands and curled them into fists, then brought them up to her face. "Your hands need to stay here. They guard your face and your throat. Then you need to stay on your toes so you can move out of the way quickly. Good, good. And then let's say that I'm your opponent. Your hips need to be facing me." He put his hands on her hips and twisted them until they were facing him. Annabeth inhaled suddenly, and his touch burned through her clothes. She realized how close they were standing. She could feel Percy's breath on her head. She looked up at him, and he looked just as frozen as she was, and unsure of what to do. Her hands carefully fell against his chest. Percy's eyes fell to her lips and Annabeth took in a breath, preparing to be kissed.

Then Percy cleared his throat. Annabeth's hands were back up and when Percy stepped away, her breathing went back to normal. He nodded stiffly and said, "And there you go. If you stay in that position the entire time, then your defense will work and you won't get hit as much."

Annabeth nodded and punched him in the shoulder. He gave her a wicked grin, all awkwardness gone, and said, "Oh, you're dead," before getting into the defense position that he'd just taught her.

They circled each other and, as usual, Annabeth waited for Percy to make the first move. When he swung his fist towards her, she swerved out of the way and kicked the back of his knee in one fluid motion. He stumbled, but Annabeth apparently hadn't hit him hard enough to make him fall. She took his second of vulnerability and used it to her advantage, punching him in the gut before quickly scurrying out of his reach. He grunted, but stood up like her hits hadn't even fazed him. He wore a smile on his face though. "Nice," he said, his tone proud. Annabeth grinned and went in again, aiming for a light punch at the throat. Percy had expected her attack, though, and grabbed her wrist before she could make contact and twirled her around so that her back was to him and he was grasping her wrist. He kicked her hard in the back of the knees and her legs buckled, bringing her to the ground. Percy began to bend down so he could press his arm to her throat and declare himself the winner, but Annabeth swung her leg out and knocked him over. He fell right on top of her.

Annabeth's plan was to flip him over onto his back and press her arm against his throat. But then he was so close and she could feel his breath on her face and he was leaning closer and all Annabeth could think about is what it would be like to kiss him.

She'd tried to forget about Luke kissing her a few nights ago, but it was hard to when she looked at Percy. She remembered seeing his face when Luke had kissed her. She hadn't known what it meant then. She still didn't know what it meant, but when she was in a situation like this and Percy was staring at her lips like he desperately wanted to kiss them, it was a little easier to imagine why she'd thought of him.

In a flash, Annabeth brought her knee up and used it to flip Percy around so that he was on his back and she was on top of him. She pressed her arm against his throat and smirked.

"Man, Annabeth," Percy said, shaking his head in disbelief. A small smile played on his lips. "You got me."

The way he said that made Annabeth think it meant more than winning a simple fight.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

"What are we looking for, again?" Percy asked. Annabeth reached out and slapped her hand over Percy's mouth, telling him with her eyes that he needed to shut up or he could never explore with her again.

They were pressed up against the wall of the mess hall, Annabeth peeking over the side as Luke's men carried mysterious looking boxes inside. Her curiosity ached to know what was inside of them, but it was impossible to tell. The boxes were boarded shut and the men were being really secretive about it. They'd brought in these boxes every couple of days, but they only did it at night, when most of the people were asleep. Annabeth had spied on them a couple of times before, but she'd never been able to figure out what was going on. When she'd asked Percy about it on her chalkboard, he'd been just as confused as she was, so she'd dragged him over here to show him.

Annabeth pushed Percy down the wall, sliding away from the corner. She scribbled on her chalkboard, _They've been doing this for a few nights now, but I can't figure out what's in the boxes._

Percy quickly read her words and then slid over her, glancing around the corner to get a look for himself. "I have no idea what's going on," he whispered to her. "I've been here for two years and they never have any deliveries made to them. Maybe it's just food?"

Annabeth shook her head. It wasn't food, that she knew for sure. The boxes were just too big and there were too many of them. The kitchen would be exploding if all of that was food. No, it was something else and it had to be big or Luke wouldn't be hiding it from everyone else. She let her head fall back against the wall behind her and thought.

"You could sneak in," Percy suggested. Annabeth looked at him. "Climb in the way you do when you steal food, through the window. You can spy on them from the kitchen and if you're quiet, they won't know that you're there."

Annabeth looked up at the window. She was kind of impressed that Percy had thought of that. She nodded her approval and he grabbed her hand, dragging her over to the spot directly under the window. Annabeth had a stool that she had hidden underneath some bushes that she usually used to sneak in, but it was easier when Percy was there. He made the little stepping place with his hands and hoisted Annabeth up and into the window.

She landed on her hands and knees on the counter, making a small noise. She froze, hoping that the men inside hadn't heard her. When no one came running into the kitchen, she figured she was safe and slithered off of the counter. She stayed on her hands and knees on the ground, despite how filthy it was, and crawled over to where the big window was. Annabeth figured that when they built this building, they had meant for there to be buffet-style meals or a serving line instead of the animal-style that they had adopted. The huge window that opened the kitchen to the dining room was proof of that.

Annabeth stayed underneath it, counting to three before slowing pushing herself to her knees and peeking just right over the edge. Thankfully, all the men's backs were to her so she was able to watch without being paranoid that one of them would see her. All of the tables were filled with boxes, but the men were crowded around one particular box, so Annabeth focused on that one. Luke was using a knife to cut through the top, his muscles flexing underneath his shirt. Annabeth blanched at the sight of him, remembering how his lips against hers felt and how disappointed and lost he'd sounded when she'd walked away. She shook those memories out of her head, however, and focused on what was happening before her.

The box was opened. A rise of collective laughs and cheers filled the huge room, but they had a low, dark edge to them. Annabeth's eyes strained to look over and see what was in the box, but the men were in the way. She heard clanking and saw that they were passing out bottles of beer and partaking in celebratory drinking. Luke silenced them all with a yell and raised his bottle in the air. "To a new beginning," he said. The other men all raised their own bottles and repeated his words with a drunken drawl to them. Then all of them chugged down the last of their beer, burping and laughing once they were done.

Luke set his down, the only one of the group who hadn't finished his beer. One of the men noticed and said, "What's up, Luke? You're usually the first out of all of us to get drunk."

"It's that blonde chick," another guy piped in. "The mute."

"Shut up," Luke sneered, the glare he sent to the men giving Annabeth chills.

"Come on, Castellan," the first guy said, his tone teasing. "We all know you're in love with her. You don't have to hide it anymore."

Annabeth stopped breathing. Her stomach turned.

She should stop listening. This was a private conversation and she didn't want to have any knowledge of Luke's feelings towards her. She knew she should sneak back out of there. Percy was waiting for her. But for some reason, her body wouldn't move. She was frozen in her place, her ears listening to things that she wanted desperately not to listen to.

"Have you kissed her yet?" another guy asked, grinning wickedly. "Probably. Knowing you, you've probably done more. I wouldn't be surprised if you've already gotten her into your bed."

"Shut _up_ ," Luke cried, slamming his hand down on the table. Everyone in the room jumped, including Annabeth. He glared at them all individually as he continued, "No, I have not gotten her in bed. And I never will because in a month, everything changes." He paused. "And when the time comes, you all better leave her alone. She's mine to decide what to do with."

A chill crept up Annabeth's back at Luke's words. What did he mean? What was going to happen in a month? What would he do with her?

"Let's move." Luke's voice rang out with authority. "All of this needs to be put up before breakfast. I'll stay and keep watch." The men began to move, putting lids back and boxes and carrying them back outside. The sound of grunts and curses filled the room. Luke stayed behind, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes. Annabeth stared at him, thinking that he looked so lost and helpless and desperate, though Annabeth didn't know what he was desperate for. She let her eyes drift away from him and to the open boxes that were all over the place. It took a second for her mind to register what the items were, but when she realized, she stopped breathing.

Weapons. Inside the boxes were weapons.

There had to be hundreds. In one box were a bunch of machine guns that looked bigger than Annabeth. In another were hundreds of grenades. In another were some scary looking bombs. And in yet another were throwing knives and daggers. There were just boxes and boxes of every kind of weapon a person could imagine. Annabeth was certain that there were enough weapons to successfully pull off a genocide.

A gasp escaped Annabeth. She slapped a hand over her mouth, but it was too late. Luke's eyes had zeroed in on her. She stood and both of them were frozen in place, their eyes wide. Annabeth moved first, stumbling backwards and running to the window. She threw herself out, not even looking to see if Percy was there. He was, and he caught her easily. He put her down on her feet and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Annabeth?" he asked. "Annabeth, what was in those boxes?"

She looked up at him with wide eyes before grabbing her chalkboard and scribbling the word "weapons" on it. When she showed Percy, his eyes widened and he ran a hand through his hair. "Why would they be collecting weapons?" he asked, half to himself. Annabeth shook her head helplessly. Why _would_ they be harboring weapons if it wasn't to kill everyone? Why would they kill everyone? It just didn't make sense.

Percy's hand slipped into Annabeth's. "Come on," he whispered in her ear. "We need to get out of here."

And with that, they ran.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

 _I'm so confused,_ Annabeth wrote.

Percy read the board and snorted. "That makes two of us."

They were in Percy's house, both of them sitting side by side on the bed. They had crashed here after sprinting away from the mess hall. Annabeth had been too riled up from their little escapade and Percy had noticed, so he'd offered to let her stay at his house so that she didn't have to be alone. She had gladly accepted the offer.

She tried to focus on the mass genocide that Luke was planning – that did seem to be the most important thing at the moment – but it was hard not to think back to what Luke had revealed to his men. Was he really in love with her? The thought bothered her for some reason. She always imagined that if someone was in love with her, she would feel all fluttery and happy. That's how it was supposed to be, wasn't it? Instead, she felt uncomfortable and distraught. Every time she remembered how he'd kissed her, her stomach would turn and she would feel like vomiting. Love wasn't supposed to feel like that.

Annabeth glanced over at Percy. She was absolutely positive that that had nothing to do with him. Surely the thrill that went through her when he smiled was simply because they were friends, right? And when she caught him staring at her and her cheeks heated up was just because she was uncomfortable when people looked at her. And it was normal to be nervous that he would find out about Luke and the kiss and his feelings for her. Completely normal.

Percy caught her gaze and Annabeth knew that it wasn't. She could feel herself falling for him and that scared her more than anything.

Annabeth broke the moment and wrote on her board, _what should we do?_

Percy shrugged. "There's not much we can do until we figure out for sure what's going on. Luke is sneaky. He could be planning anything."

It wasn't much of a comfort. But Annabeth knew he was right. They had to find out more before they could do anything, because what if they warned the people that Luke was going to kill them all and then they turned out to be wrong? Luke would have their heads for sure.

Annabeth leaned over and rested her head on Percy's shoulder. Percy stiffened beneath her, but eventually relaxed enough to grab her hand and bring it into his lap. He played with her fingers and every touch sent a shock through her. The scene was so quiet and serene, Annabeth could almost forget that they were in the Pit and there could potentially be an attack in a month.

"I remembered you," Percy said suddenly. Annabeth was surprised to hear his voice, but she stayed where she was simply because it was comfortable. He continued, "My first thought when you sat next to me in the mess hall was, how did a girl like Annabeth Chase get stuck in a place like this?" He laughed bitterly and shook his head. "I immediately recognized you from back home. Did you know that I lived three doors down from you?" Annabeth shook her head, her cheek rubbing against his shoulder. She could feel him flex at the movement. "I watched you," he said, and his voice was different somehow. Strained, like they were painful memories. "I watched you walk to school every day, your two little braids bouncing and your ribbons shining in the sun. You always made sure that your ribbons matched your outfit. I always noticed that about you.

"At first, I just watched you walk to school. We were in different grades, so I never actually saw you at school. Everything changed when we got to high school, though. I finally had classes with you. I was so shocked when you walked in. I guess it showed on my face because Ryland made fun of me for weeks." His voice faltered and Annabeth felt him tense when he said his brother's name. She lifted her head off of his shoulder and looked at him. His jaw was set, but his eyes were far away, like he was reliving old memories. Annabeth intertwined their fingers and squeezed as Percy continued. "He said it was the perfect Beauty and the Beast story. The bad boy falling for the good girl. He always joked around like that, but little did he know that every time he called me a bad boy or the fighter of the family, he was reminding me of what my fate was. I was the evil twin and I only had a matter of time before I would be taken away from Elysium and put in the Pit.

"I think that's why I never talked to you. Not only did you intimidate me with your beautiful smile and perfect grades, but I knew that in a few years I would have to leave you. So I decided to stay silent, just like you, and admire you from a distance." He paused and turned to look at Annabeth. "I know you can speak," he whispered, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "I remember what you were like before the accident. I remember when you used to live in a different house with your parents and your brother. You used to laugh and when you did, your eyes would light up. You were gorgeous, even at six years old. And I remember when your family died and you moved in with your aunt and uncle and your cousins. You stopped smiling for a while. You stopped speaking at all. You would walk past my house on your way to school with bruises on your arms and you walked like every step hurt. I wanted to kill every person in that house." He paused. "I still do."

Annabeth was crying. Tears streamed silently down her face. She'd felt so alone for ten years. For ten years, she'd suffered in that house, enduring screaming and abuse. She had given up all hope of ever being loved. And now, to know that Percy – _Percy_ , of all people – had noticed her and watched her and cared for her the entire time she felt so alone, well, it was probably the greatest gift anyone had ever given her.

Never in her entire life had she wanted to speak so badly. Not when her cousins locked the bathroom door and wouldn't give her the key until she had wet her pants. Not when her aunt had told her what a worthless piece of trash she was and that she didn't deserve a family. Not even when her uncle had thrown beer bottles at her during one of his drunken rages. Not even then had she wanted to speak as badly as she wanted to speak now. She wanted to open her mouth and let Percy know that she had noticed him also. She saw him in the back of class, staring out the window like he was dreaming of a place beyond where they were. She saw him in his most desperate hour after his brother had died, screaming and thrashing like he'd lost a part of himself. And she'd _understood_ him.

But she couldn't speak. She'd spent ten years refusing to acknowledge the world around her. Her voice was hidden so deeply inside of her that she wasn't sure if she still even had one.

"I have something for you," Percy said. He got up from the bed and Annabeth immediately missed his presence warm beside her. He moved over to the chest at the foot of his bed and dug around, cursing when he'd poked himself with something. Finally, he brought out a beaten up pair of shoes and walked back over to her.

"I noticed that you don't have any," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I bartered for them with the old woman down the street. They're old and little worn down, but I think they'll work. It's better than not having any shoes at all."

Annabeth stared at the shoes. She thought back to what she'd just been mulling over a minute ago. For years, she'd thought that no one had cared about her. Now, here Percy was, telling her that he had cared for her, during all those hard, horrible years. Here he was, _still_ caring for her.

She started to cry.

Percy reached out and wiped away her tears. He brought her head to his and pressed his lips against her forehead. "Your feet look pretty bad," he told her. "I'm gonna clean them up a little, alright?" Annabeth nodded, still crying. Percy grabbed the basin of water he had set out on his table and the rag that was next to it and began to scrub away the blood and dirt that was covering her feet. Annabeth had to cover her mouth to keep her sobs in. When her feet were clean, Percy studied all of the cuts and gashes that covered them. He excused himself and went over to Grover's side of the room and came back with some rubbing alcohol, explaining that it would clean out all of the wounds, but it would sting a little. Annabeth jumped a little when he pressed the alcohol-soaked rag against her foot, but Percy rubbed a reassuring thumb on her ankle and it was enough to distract Annabeth from the sting.

Once he was finished cleaning her feet, he wrapped them up with some cloth from one of his old shirts and helped her into the shoes. They were just a simple pair of leather boots, brown with lots of laces. When Annabeth put them on, she could tell that they were old and molded to fit another person's foot, but they were shoes and she'd never been more thankful for anything in her life.

When Percy jumped back onto the bed with her, Annabeth wrapped her arms around his torso and pressed herself against him, burying her face in his chest. He grunted a little bit at the sudden attack, but eventually relaxed into her, wrapping his own arms around her and falling back against the wall. Annabeth squeezed and looked up, pulling her arms back and resting them on his neck. She mouthed, _thank you_ , and felt a thrill as it was the closest she'd come to talking in years. Percy's face broke out in a smile and he brought her face to his, pressing his forehead against hers. His hand buried itself in her hair and suddenly their eyelashes were tangles together and their noses were pressing into each other's and Annabeth could feel Percy's breath on her lips.

"Annabeth," Percy murmured, his eyes closed. She could feel his lips brush against hers when he spoke. That touch made her yearn to feel his lips in full contact with hers.

"Hey, Perc—oh. Sorry." Annabeth and Percy broke away as fast as lightning, darting to different sides of the bed.

"Geez, Grover," Percy said, running a hand through his hair. His face was bright red, but he was trying to play it cool. "Maybe you could knock next time?"

Grover looked just as embarrassed as Percy and Annabeth were. "Yeah," he snorted. "Knock at my own house. Makes sense." He nodded at Annabeth. "Hey, Annabeth."

Annabeth smiled meekly back. Grover went over and closed the curtain, rolling his eyes while he was doing it. "Just remember that these curtains aren't soundproof, so please think of me before you do anything." Annabeth's entire body felt like it was on fire at Grover's suggestion and it looked like Percy was experiencing the same thing because they both sat there for a minute after Grover closed the curtain. Finally, Percy seemed to snap out of it, saying, "Sorry about that. He's a cripple."

Annabeth smiled. That was Percy's go-to excuse for anything that Grover did.

"So, do you want me to walk you home?" he asked. Annabeth smiled slyly and leaned back against his pillows. Percy bit his lip. "You want to stay here?" he asked. Annabeth nodded and patted the spot next to her. Percy hesitated before laying down next to her.

"Okay," he agreed. "Just for tonight."

Then his arms were around her and their legs were tangled together and her forehead was pressed right above his beating heart and she began to understand what Luke meant when he'd told her that there was beauty even in the most messed up of places.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Annabeth felt like she was walking on a cloud the next day. She and Percy practiced as usual, and she even beat him a couple of times during their fights. Even when she lost, she still felt like a winner because she somehow always managed to end up in Percy's arms and then he would smile at her and the world felt like it was being flipped upside down.

And after lunch, when Percy had to leave to go fight in his street fights, Annabeth sat by the canyon and thought about him. She knew what she was feeling. Love. And it scared the crap out of her. Ever since her family died, she'd never allowed herself to love, just like she'd never allowed herself to speak. She'd never had friends growing up, much less anything close to what she had with Percy. This new feeling was foreign after almost ten years of living without it. And even though she knew that her trust was well protected with Percy, she still had an irrational fear of opening herself up only to be hurt again.

It was ridiculous, she knew. Percy would never hurt her. But that didn't stop her from feeling the way she did.

She was still consumed in her thoughts when she walked home later that night. She barely even noticed the group of men in dark hoodies following her until it was too late.

She turned into an alley, knowing that it would get her home faster. She gasped, however, when she felt someone's hand grab the back of her shirt and pull her against them. A cool knife bit into the skin at her neck. She acted on instinct, bringing her head back and banging it against her attacker while simultaneously elbowing him in the gut. The knife dropped away from her neck as her attacker grunted and let her go. She glanced around, desperately looking for a way out. But there were four more men and they had surrounded her. Her heart began pounding with fear.

"Luke might have feelings for you," one of the men sneered, "but we don't care if you die."

Annabeth swallowed. There was no way out. She looked at the men, recognizing them as Luke's. Her stomach sank to her feet.

This was the attack she'd been waiting for.

 **Here you go! Part two. I hope you all enjoyed it. Thank you so much for all of your reviews, and thank you for following and favoriting! The last part will (hopefully) be up by tomorrow night. Tomorrow's my last day of Christmas break and I'm spending the entire day writing.**

 **I had a few people ask me if I would ever develop this into a full-length novel. I think I could, but it probably wouldn't be a fanfiction. I would probably post it on Wattpad or FictionPress as an original. There's a lot of stuff that I would change up. If I ever do make this an original (and I'm seriously considering it because this is so much fun to write), I'll post an author's note on here to let you all know.**

 **And by the way, I got this idea from a prompt. I didn't come up with it all by myself. I saw it online and it said something like imagine a world where everyone is born with a twin and one is evil and one is good and you don't have a twin so they have to choose which territory to put you in. The plot is mine, I just stole the twin idea.**

 **Review, follow, and favorite!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: All PJO characters belong to Rick Riordan.**

The Pit

Annabeth's heart pounded in her chest. She locked eyes with her attackers, knowing that she was dead. She could have taken one, maybe, but not all five of them. She was too small. She was quicker than them, sure, but she didn't have as much strength as these men, and it ultimately came down to strength, anyway.

She curled her hands into fists. The men were getting closer and closer and Annabeth figured that if she was going down, she'd go down fighting. The one who had put a knife to her throat took the first swing. She jumped out of the way, narrowly avoiding getting hit in the nose. She put up her fists and turned her hips towards the man just like Percy had taught her. She made her own move, kicking out her leg and kicking him in the gut with everything in her. He grunted and stumbled back a few a steps.

That's when Annabeth felt someone kick the back of her knees and she fell to the ground. Another kick came, this one in her gut. Annabeth relaxed her body, let it hit her, before she swung out her leg and knocked one of her attackers over. She remembered Percy showing her where to hit a man when he was down in order to knock him out. She took the heel of her boot and slammed it into the man's temple. He was out cold in seconds.

Annabeth's victory was short-lived, however, when someone punched her hard right in between her shoulder blades. All of the air left her body, freezing her in place while she tried to catch her breath. She felt the sharp sting of a knife slicing her side, leaving a cut about three inches long. Someone jabbed the hilt of a knife into the back of her head, but he was slightly off in his placement, so the hit didn't knock her out. The pain was almost enough to make her go unconscious, though. Her vision was going in and out and she still couldn't catch her breath. She fought, though, as viciously as she could. She threw an elbow and managed to hit the guy with the knife in the temple. He crumpled to the ground.

Two down, three more to go. She felt a punch in her gut and another guy grabbed her braid and yanked as hard as he could. Annabeth head went flying backwards. The guy put her in a head lock and kept her there while both of the other men simultaneously kicked her and elbowed her until Annabeth's vision began to go dark and she felt like her lungs were collapsing. She relaxed her body, going limp while the men kept on going at it like she was a punching bag. They laughed and joked around, but Annabeth could barely hear it over the pumping of blood in her ears.

She was going to die. The reality of it hit her harder than these men. _She was going to die._

And then, all of a sudden, the men stopped. She was let go of and slid to the ground, landing in a twisted heap as she gasped for air. She faintly heard the sound of fighting men, but she was so exhausted that she hardly cared. She wanted to go to sleep. Her eyes were getting heavier. She couldn't even feel her body anymore. Maybe, if she just fell asleep, she would wake up and be healed and this would all be just a dream. Her eyes were half-closed when she heard her name.

"Annabeth!" Someone was crouched above her. She could feel his hands on her face, slapping her. It kind of hurt. "Annabeth, stay with me. Stay with me, please. Just hold in there."

She felt herself being picked up. Somewhere in the back of her muddied mind, she realized that it was Percy who was carrying her, and she let herself fall against his chest. It was wet with something. Maybe her blood?

She looked behind them as they walked away. All five men were laying there, either unconscious or dead. She was too tired to figure out which one it was. She rested her head against Percy's shoulder and closed her eyes.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Annabeth woke up with a pounding headache. She blinked her eyes open and then shut them tight immediately after as searing pain flashed through her temples. She moaned and buried her head back down in her pillow, deciding that maybe she should go back to sleep.

Something moved next to her. Annabeth felt an arm tighten around her waist and she knew without having to look that it was Percy. Her lips turned up in a smile and she snuggled into him, feeling almost happy, until she remembered what had happened the night before.

"Annabeth," she heard Percy murmur. "Annabeth, we gotta get up. Breakfast is in a few minutes."

Annabeth refused to move. She had food here, hidden in her trunk, and besides, she thought that after what had happened last night, she deserved to lay in bed, cuddled up with Percy, for at least another hour, if not forever. Percy sighed and she felt the bed shift as he pushed himself up to his elbows. He reached over and brushed a strand of hair out of Annabeth's face. His fingers were feather light on her skin.

Annabeth slowly opened her eyes. She still felt a pain in her temples at the bright light that streamed in through the window, but she focused her gaze on Percy. He was on the edge of the bed with her sandwiched between him and the wall. As she studied him, she noticed a small red line that ran across his cheekbone. She lifted a hand up and ran her fingers over it.

"You were almost dead when I found you," Percy said in a serious tone. "A few more punches and a rib would have punctured your lung. You could have died."

Annabeth's eyes widened and she tried to sit up with him, only to fall back with a cry. Pain racked her body and it hurt so badly, that all of the air in her left for a moment. She gasped for breath. "Hey," Percy said, bringing his hand up to her face and running a thumb over her skin. "Just sit still for a minute. You can move when you're ready. You took a lot of hits last night."

Annabeth reached down to the hem of her shirt and ripped it up. Covering her stomach were a bunch of white bandages that wrapped all the way around her waist. Annabeth reached down and began to unwrap them, needing to know what was underneath it all and how bad the damage was. Percy covered her hand with his, trying to stop her from undoing the work that he had so obviously done. But when Annabeth sent him a desperate look, he let go of her. Annabeth kept unwrapping until she was staring at the skin underneath.

It didn't even look like flesh anymore. Her skin was a rainbow of colors: black, blue, green, purple, red. On her side was a gross looking cut, the skin around it bubbling up just a little bit. Annabeth covered her mouth with her hand as she stared, unable to believe that the stomach she was looking at was _hers_. Even when she was living with her aunt and uncle, her bruises had never been this bad.

She looked up at Percy, who was watching her and gauging her reaction, and made a gesture in the air like she was writing something. Percy nodded and reached over to the ground, pulling the chalkboard out of her discarded satchel. He handed it to Annabeth, who began to scribble on it furiously.

 _How did you find me?_

Percy bit his lip. "I came by here looking for you, but Clarisse said that you were still out at the canyon," he explained. "I was going to meet you out there, but I found you in that alley instead." He paused. "I can't believe he sent five after you. It's supposed to be just one man. That's how it's been for the two years since I've been here."

Annabeth stared at the ceiling above her. Percy's words brought on another wave of confusion. Why would Luke send five men after _her_ when he usually only sent one? Why did he want her dead so badly? He had to have known that five men at once would kill her, so why did he do it?

Annabeth reached out and grabbed Percy's hand, intertwining their fingers. She tried to pull him back down, but he shook his head. "No, Annabeth," he said. "We can't just lay around in bed all day. I have to eat and work and you have to go show Luke that you're still alive, despite his obvious efforts to kill you." His voice sounded harsh and angry when he said that.

Annabeth quickly wrote on her board, _will you come with me?_

A soft smile spread across Percy's face. "Of course," he promised.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Luke looked relieved to see her, which Annabeth thought was a bit ironic.

When she and Percy walked through the door of his house, the only noise that Annabeth heard was the soft exhalation of relief that escaped Luke's mouth. He studied her face and then his eyes fell up and down her body, like he was checking for injuries. He opened his mouth and Annabeth wasn't expecting what she was expecting him to say, but it wasn't, "You passed."

Annabeth sent a steely glare towards him. She'd been mostly confused when Percy told her about him sending too many men, but now that she was looking at him and seeing the concern and surprise in his eyes, she was angry. Really angry.

"I suspected as much when Travis didn't come back," Luke continued, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. "Congratulations. You passed the second test."

"You sent five men after her," Percy said. His tone was cold and hard and Annabeth realized that he was just as angry as she was and the thought made her warm.

Luke's cool expression melted to one of confusion. "What?" he asked. "I only sent Travis. That's it."

"Then why did I find her in an alley with five men surrounding her?" Percy asked, his tone rising. "They had her in a headlock and they were going to beat her until she died, if I hadn't stepped in."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Luke defended. "I only sent Travis, I swear. I had no knowledge of those other men." He paused, his face hardening into a sneer he directed at Percy. "Although if she _really_ belonged here, she could have fought them off."

Annabeth glared. She took a step towards Luke, but Percy grabbed her arm and held her in place. She'd never felt so frustrated in her life. She wanted to scream at both of them; she wanted to tell Luke what a conniving jerk he was. She wanted to tell Percy that she could fend for herself (though, that probably wouldn't go over well since she would be dead if it weren't for him). But she _couldn't_ , and that had to be the most frustrating thing ever.

"I'd like to see you fight off five men all by yourself," Percy snapped.

Luke glared. "Anyone who rightfully belongs in the Pit could fight off five men easily. That's why they're _here_." His tone was dangerously calm and Annabeth grasped Percy's hand, silently telling him to be careful. Who knew what Luke could be capable of when he was angry?

Luke's eyes flickered to their clasped hands. His face went red with anger and Annabeth's stomach dropped. Maybe that wasn't the best thing to do, especially when he was already angry.

"So what I'm hearing is that you didn't successfully fight off the men," Luke said, turning his gaze to Annabeth. Annabeth stood frozen with her mouth open, trying to form words that would never come out.

"She knocked out two of them," Percy said, gritting his teeth.

"But not all of them." Luke kept his steely gaze on Annabeth. Fear ripped through her. Luke couldn't . . . he wouldn't kill her simply because she didn't have the strength to survive an attack from five men. That was ridiculous. She tried to tell herself that she didn't have to worry, that Luke _loved_ her, and that he wouldn't kill her because he cared for her, but as she watched the fire in his eyes, she remembered that he was reckless and impulsive and in this fit of jealous rage, he could sentence her and Percy to death.

"I feel," Luke stated, "like I should not count Annabeth's behavior as passing the test laid before her. Unless, of course, you present me with evidence that you did, indeed, pass."

"She—"

"I was talking to Annabeth," Luke snapped at an open-mouthed Percy.

Annabeth's stomach dropped. He couldn't possibly be asking her what she thought he was. Could he? He _knew_ that she couldn't talk. Why would he do this to her? Did he want her to die? Annabeth curled her shaking hands into fists, trying to control her fear and anger.

How _dare_ he.

The thought popped into her head with a furious rage accompanying it. She yanked her chalkboard out of her satchel and scraped the chalk on the board, writing out three simple words that held so much meaning.

 _I hate you._

Luke's eyes flickered over the words and so subtly, even Annabeth hardly noticed, his features fell. His eyes lost their fire and instead looked regretful, like he had finally realized what he'd done and was ashamed. He meant Annabeth's loathing gaze and swallowed hard.

"She knocked out two of the men," Percy said. His tone wasn't as harsh this time, almost like he had noticed the change as well. "And half of fighting and surviving is having the right allies to have her back. She was smart enough to make allies. I say she passed the test fair and square."

Luke was still watching Annabeth. He swallowed again and nodded. "Alright," he finally said. "I'll let it pass. But the fourth test is coming." He paused, making sure to meet Annabeth's eyes, which had fallen away from him. "Watch your back."

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Annabeth was going insane.

She was even more paranoid about an attack than she was before. When she walked through the streets of the Pit, her eyes were glancing behind her more than they were watching ahead of her. Her hands were in a permanent state of shaking. She hadn't slept in the three days since her confrontation with Luke and Percy was always off participating in street fights. He'd told her that it was just because he needed to build up his street cred, that people were forgetting who he was and what he could do and that he just needed to take a few days and go back to the fights just to show people that he was still strong.

Annabeth understood. She really, really did. She was no stranger to marking your territory and showing how strong you were just for the sake of intimidation. They might advertise that Elysium was the perfect paradise, but it was far from it. People were still cruel and evil, they just kept their evil hidden better than others. Annabeth knew about that firsthand.

But she wanted Percy. She needed him with her, beside her, making her laugh and smile, making her feel accepted. She knew and understood what he was doing, but she didn't necessarily like it.

She thought about this as she laid on her bed. She'd been there for most of the day, too scared to go and do anything more. Clarisse had spared her a few concerned glances while she was going to and from places, but she never said a word to her. Annabeth was thankful for that. She was too jumpy and afraid for any human interaction. Or, at least she _was_ five hours ago. But now, as the light outside was dimming and night was approaching, Annabeth was panicky. She'd been alone all day and suddenly she wanted – she _needed_ someone to talk to her. She needed to spend time with another person. Well, one specific person.

She needed Percy.

Annabeth dragged herself off of the mattress, her lazy muscles protesting at the movement. She knew that Percy had made her promise not to go to his street fights. He'd been so adamant at the time that Annabeth hadn't even dared to cross him. But now, after everything that had happened between them, everything they had said to each other, she thought that maybe it was okay that she was breaking her promise. She needed him. She didn't even grab her bag. She threw on her shoes and ran out the door.

The air was cool. Annabeth shivered in the wind. She'd discovered quickly after arriving at the Pit that the weather was absolutely drastic. She supposed it was a direct effect of the storms that had ravaged this land. That's what they had taught her in school in Elysium; that the storms had come and waged war on the world and after they left, it had created a small little pocket of perfect weather and that's where they decided to build Elysium. But everywhere else, it was crazy weather; freezing temperatures, icy rains, boiling deserts. Here, where the Pit was located, it was sweltering temperatures in the day and freezing during the night. The sun was just going down and Annabeth was already beginning to feel the start of it.

She glanced behind her. She wasn't sure what she was expecting exactly, but her brain sure liked to imagine it. She pictured twice as many men coming up behind her, blindfolding her, and throwing her into the canyon. She imagined Luke himself appearing and throwing her back out into the desert. She imagined supernatural monsters coming after her in her sleep, which was so far-fetched, it shouldn't scare her as much as it did.

Every night, she would try to sleep, only to wake up, screaming and sobbing into her pillow, Luke's cruel eyes haunting her and his voice repeating that she'd failed her test and that he'd have to kill her. Sometimes, Percy would be there to brush back her hair and pull her to his chest and whisper in her ear random stories and jokes until she'd calmed down. Those nights, she would fall back asleep. But then there were the nights when she'd wake up alone in her own bed and she'd stay awake, staring out the window, wondering if her entire existence was just a cruel joke to the universe.

Her feet knew the way to where Percy was. Clarisse had told her one day, when she noticed how anxious Annabeth was, not having Percy around. Apparently, Clarisse participated in the street fights too. She'd even fought Percy, she'd told Annabeth, though she was never able to beat him. She'd said that with a bitter tone and Annabeth had had to suppress a proud smile.

Percy fought most of his fights in an alley that was near the mess hall. Annabeth got there easily, but it proved much harder to get _in_. Hundreds of people crowded inside, falling over each other to get a glimpse of the fight happening in the middle of the mass. It was mostly men, betting and cheering on their favorite, but Annabeth saw a few women mixed in, whispering and giggling to each other. There were lights strung across the buildings that formed the alley, providing light for the group, but it was dim so several people held torches in their hands, making the scene look all too creepy in Annabeth's opinion. She swallowed and began to slither through the crowd, silently giving thanks that she was small and petite. It made it much easier to maneuver around people.

As she got closer, she could hear grunts and growls and the sound of skin hitting skin. She heard a cry, faint over the roar of the cheering crowd, but audible nonetheless. She felt like a sharp icicle had just pierced her heart. The cry was Percy's.

She made her way through the crowd with a greater sense of urgency now. People cried out with surprise and irritation when she passed them, making snide remarks, but it all flew over Annabeth's head. She kept going, kept going, kept going, her heart beating in sync with her throbbing fear in her stomach.

And finally, she broke through.

She was at the front of the crowd with no one and nothing to stand in her way. Two men were fighting in the people-formed ring, both bloody and battered and visibly exhausted, but fire shining in their eyes. Percy was one of them, his shirt torn and bloody. His chest was heaving up and down with an effort to take breaths, but overall, he looked okay. He stared at his opponent like he was the only person in the world and his eyes his eyes his eyes

were _vicious_

and Annabeth was transfixed. That icicle that had pierced Annabeth's heart was growing, freezing her insides until she was nothing but a girl-shaped block of ice. She watched as Percy's muscles moved, shadows flickering across him like they were dancing in the firelight, she stopped breathing when his fists slammed into his opponent's jaw again and again and again and again until there were drops of blood flying out of his lips and Percy's face was so cruel and his mouth his _lips_ were twisted into a sneer and he was moving in like a lion moving in for the final kill and and and

this was not her Percy.

Her Percy was gentle. He was sweet. He told her jokes and then laughed when she didn't. He brushed hair out of her face and smiled like she was the only person in the world who mattered. He distracted her when she was afraid and comforted her after her nightmares.

This man in front of her was someone she didn't recognize. He was a vicious monster, a person who got off on other people's pain. He was unstoppable and strong and fast. He was smart and he was beating this man to a bloody pulp right before her unbelieving eyes. He kept beating him until the man was laying there, limp and unconscious or maybe _dead_ and then he slowly rose to his feet and lifted his head while everyone cheered like he was some sort of hero and he locked eyes with her.

And she thawed.

His eyes widened upon the sight of her and then they darkened with worry concern fear anger? Annabeth didn't know. She didn't wait to figure it out.

She turned and she ran.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Annabeth ran until she couldn't breathe anymore. She could hear Percy behind her, yelling her name. He'd ran after her, pushing through the crowd of people like they were nothing more than water. Annabeth had ignored him, running running running until she reached the canyon and couldn't run anymore. Percy was only a few steps behind her. He stopped right next to her, his hands reaching for her waist. Annabeth jerked away from him, her eyes wide.

Why was she so stunned? Why was she so afraid?

"Annabeth," Percy said, his voice catching. "Annabeth, why did you come? I told you not to come. I didn't want you to see that."

 _You didn't want me to see that you're strong? You didn't want me to see that you fight like lion protecting its kin? You didn't want me to see that you're beautiful?_

She didn't say any of that. She just stared at him and hoped that he would see and understand what she was feeling, even if she didn't understand it herself. Instead, he just chuckled a bitter little chuckle and looked down at his feet, shaking his head. "You're never going to listen to me, are you?" he questioned.

Annabeth swallowed and looked down, only to notice, really notice for the first time that Percy was bleeding. She gasped and stepped forward, pushing up Percy's shirt to look at the injury on his stomach. Two nasty cuts were there, bleeding and looking rather painful. Annabeth looked back up at Percy for an explanation.

"Guy had a knife," he explained solemnly. "It was technically illegal, but no one listens to the rules in the Pit."

Annabeth looked back down at the wound. There were speckles of brown and black inside of it, mixing with the blood. Almost his entire abdomen was swollen and red, like he'd gotten a very bad sunburn. Annabeth touched her fingers on the skin around the cuts and let out an almost inaudible gasp. His skin was burning up.

Annabeth thought back to a couple years ago when her school had done a small course on first aid. Cuts and puncture wounds had been one of the things they had gone over and all of the symptoms that Percy was showing were symptoms of infection. There must have been dirt on that knife, Annabeth thought. That would explain the speckles in his blood.

She straightened and took Percy's hand, dragging him back towards the streets. He followed her without question, not saying a word until they made it to her house. Annabeth walked inside and made Percy sit down on her bed, while glancing over to Clarisse's side of the room. Clarisse, blessedly, wasn't there. Sometimes, she stayed out late doing who-knows-what, only to come back in the morning. Annabeth hoped that tonight was one of those nights.

It was near impossible to see in the dark with no electricity or fire or anything, but Annabeth managed. When Percy leaned against the wall beside her bed, the moonlight streaming in from the window hit him at just the right spot so Annabeth could see his injury. She gestured for him to take off his shirt, which he did, grinning smugly when he noticed Annabeth staring at his muscled chest. Annabeth was thankful that it was dark and he couldn't see her blush.

She just couldn't help it. He was so beautiful. Despite the bloody mess on his stomach, his chest was perfectly sculpted. The muscles in his shoulders – _oh his shoulders_ – shifted and tightened with every movement and Annabeth's eyes were transfixed like she was hypnotized. She wanted to trail her fingers all across his chest and shoulders and up his neck. She wanted to memorize his face with her lips. She wanted to feel the silkiness of his hair in her fingers.

She turned even redder when she realized just how inappropriate her thoughts were. Turning her back to him, Annabeth hunted around for some supplies to clean up Percy's wound. The best she could find was the pathetic little bar of soap she used to wash her hair and body when she took showers. She grabbed a bottle of water that she'd stolen on her last food run and the bandages that Percy had used to wrap up her hurt stomach a few days away. She'd healed remarkably fast and had taken off the bandages, washed them, and kept them just in case they needed to be reused.

When she went back over to Percy, she made sure to sit far enough away from him so that their knees wouldn't touch, but that proved to be difficult when she began to clean out Percy's cuts. Annabeth's knee pressed into his thigh and she pretended not to notice the little fireworks that went off every second that they were touching.

Her fingers brushed the skin of his torso. He took in a sharp breath. Annabeth looked up at him with wide, apologetic eyes, but he just chuckled and stammered out in a strained voice, "No, no, I – I'm fine. I just . . . you didn't hurt me, but, um–" He cut himself off, shaking his head in disbelief, though Annabeth didn't know what was so unbelievable. She decided to shrug it off and continue with her work.

Annabeth was wrapping up the wound when Percy decided to speak again.

"I had to survive."

Annabeth looked up, biting her lip, and made eye contact with him before looking back down again. "Fighting is the only thing I know how to do," he continued in a broken voice. "I never did well in school, not like you. The only thing that comes naturally to me is fighting and I'm good at it. Out here, survival is key. You either live or you don't and most people don't. I fight to show people that I'm not to be messed with. That I'm strong, that I'm hard, and that I belong here. Fighting means food. It means power and, as crazy as it seems, it means peace. No one messes with you when they've seen you beat a man twice your size like it's nothing." He paused, looking down and shaking his head. Annabeth finished with the bandages and pulled away, looking at him with a concerned face. He looked up and met her gaze, giving her a soft, empty smile.

"You don't belong here, Annabeth. You never have and I don't know how a girl like you could ever be thought to be evil. You're beautiful and you're innocent and you're good and when I'm around you, you make me feel good too. But that doesn't take away from the fact that I _do_ belong here. I belong here every bit as much as you don't. I'm a monster. I fight and I enjoy it and I like the feeling of having another person at my mercy and if you are any bit as smart as I think you are, you'd stay away from me."

They were both standing, though Annabeth didn't remember standing up at all. Percy was just a mere inch away from her and he was breathing heavy and she was violently shaking her head because _no_ no that was not who he was and how dare he think so low of himself at all but especially when she was in front of him because didn't he know that he was everything to her? Sure, it had scared her to see him be so cruel and violent while fighting, but there was also something graceful in the way that he fought. He fought honorably and bravely, like he was defending what was his. She remembered how he had beat up those men when they attacked her and she couldn't help but think that maybe what he was defending was _her._

Because she knew suddenly, as she listened to Percy talk, that she was completely, one-hundred percent _his_.

Annabeth reached up and pulled Percy's forehead down to hers. It was silent and it was dark and their breaths were mingling together. Annabeth was afraid, so afraid, of what she was about to do but what else was she supposed to do? How else was she supposed to show him that he was her entire world?

She closed her eyes and remembered all of the years that she had felt alone. All of the years that her cousins had tormented her, all of the floors that her aunt made her scrub, all of the empty beer bottles that her uncle had shattered against her skin. And she realized that while she had been consumed in her silence, maybe Percy had been just as lonely as she had been. She remembered seeing him sit in the back of the class with his hood up, a fresh black eye shadowing his cheekbone. She remembered seeing him scream and thrash around as he was dragged from the town hall after his test, she remembered the pain in his eyes that had mirrored her own and suddenly, _suddenly_ , she had to let him know that he wasn't alone. That he wasn't a monster. That she cared about him and that, gods above, she _wanted_ him.

Annabeth closed the gap and kissed Percy.

He made a small noise of surprise before letting out a small sigh and kissing her back. His hands wrapped around her back, crushing her body to his and lifting her a couple inches off of the ground despite the wound on his stomach. Annabeth wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her hands pressing into his neck. His lips moved against hers with such urgency that she knew he had to have been wanting this for a while. His mouth pried her mouth open like it was the most natural thing in the world and she was hot hot hot everywhere yet she clung closer because she couldn't get enough of him.

They stumbled back, falling against the wall. Annabeth's head was spinning and she didn't know if up was down or if right was left or even what one plus one was. All she knew was Percy and his lips and his hands on her body, his body trapping hers in place, the taste of the ocean. The universe opened up when she was in his arms. He was every place in the world that she wanted to go. He was a rainy Sunday morning. He was a cup of hot chocolate. He was every wish she'd ever made. He was all of the constellations rolled into a person. He was a bike ride on a perfect day.

He

was

 _everything_

and she was falling falling falling so fast and so hard she could hardly hold on to her senses.

Percy was the first to pull away. He gasped for breath but he was smiling and they were smashed against the wall and he was still without a shirt so it was okay. His fingers had slipped beneath her own shirt, rubbing circles into the skin that sent sparks and shivers up her spine. "I've wanted to do that," Percy said, breathless, "for a very long time."

And she was floating.

She smiled at him, aware of her own heavy breathing. She probably looked so crazy right then, her eyes wild and bright, her hair mussed up and tangled. But Percy was staring at her in a way that made her feel like she was the only valuable thing in the entire world.

She brought her hands down from his neck and intertwined their fingers.

 _How long?_ she wanted to ask. _How long have you dreamed about me?_

"Every day," Percy whispered, bringing his mouth to her forehead and whispering the words against her skin, "for as long as I can remember, I've wanted to kiss you. I've woken up shaking because I dreamed of what your lips on mine might feel like." He paused, bringing their joined hands up and spreading her arms apart like she was an eagle ready to take flight. He leaned in even closer, his lips making a trail from her jaw to her ear, and Annabeth forgot how to breathe. "I've been in love with you for a very long time," he whispered before kissing her.

This kiss was softer, slower than the one before. They took their time with each other, exploring each other's tastes and memorizing how the other felt. Percy was a remarkable kisser, Annabeth thought. Or, that's what she would have thought if she'd been capable of thinking.

Percy pulled away, resting his forehead against hers. "I don't think I'm ever going to be able to stop," he whispered, quietly laughing. Annabeth giggled along with him, wishing that she could speak, wishing that she could tell him how much he meant to her.

 _Please, don't ever stop_.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Annabeth woke up the next morning with her forehead pressed against someone's bare chest. She looked up to see Percy fast asleep, a small line of drool dribbling from his mouth onto Annabeth's pillow. She turned red, realizing what an inappropriate position they were in, even if they were fully clothed. Well, _she_ was fully clothed. But her shirt had ridden halfway up her stomach throughout the night and Percy's hands were resting on the exposed half. Their legs were a tangled mass of limbs. Annabeth was curled into his bare chest while Percy was nestled into the pillow.

Annabeth tried to pull away, but when she moved, Percy's arms tightened around her, holding her in place. Annabeth shot him a look and his mouth snaked up into a smug smile though his eyes were closed. He continued to hold her tight against him as Annabeth struggled to escape. Finally, she gave up and fell back against him. Percy shifted then, bringing his face down and burying it in the space where her neck met her shoulder. Annabeth went still.

"Good morning," was his muffled greeting. "You smell good." He brought his face away from her shoulder in order to see her raised eyebrow, to which he chuckled at. "You always smell good," he told her. "Like . . . like grapes on a hot summer day." He bit his lip. "Was that too cheesy?"

Annabeth smiled and pressed her lips to his. Percy sighed in contentment and lazily moved his lips with hers, pushing her on shoulders until she was laying on her back and he was hovering on top of her. Annabeth's entire body crackled at his touch and she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer until his entire weight was settled on top of her.

Percy pulled away to catch his breath and Annabeth felt like her brain had been replaced by cotton balls. Percy brought his hand up and brushed some of her hair behind her ear. Annabeth almost had enough wits to be embarrassed at the way her eyes fluttered shut at his touch.

"I have to go," Percy whispered against her skin. Disappointment struck Annabeth and Percy must have felt the way her body fell. He used one hand to cup the side of her face and rub his thumb over her cheek. "I'm sorry," he apologized, but his face was so close to Annabeth's, his lips so near to hers, she hardly understood what he was saying. She brought her mouth to his again and Percy didn't protest like she thought he would. He kissed her back, bringing his other hand up to cup the other side of her face.

"Or I could stay a little longer," he said against her lips, his words cut off quickly and Annabeth's mouth capturing them. She smiled and they kept kissing for who-knows-how-long, only breaking apart for breath. As time went on, the breaks became less frequent and the kisses became longer and Annabeth was getting lightheaded. Percy had a way that made her forget absolutely everything. He kissed her with such a grace that it was almost like a dance to him; he moved his lips so slowly and naturally, leading Annabeth's along with his. His body moved against hers in a way that gave Annabeth chills.

She was sinking fast, getting swallowed up in Percy Jackson, and she didn't even mind.

The sound of a door opening echoed in Annabeth's ears and she was thankful that at least Percy had enough sense to break off the kiss. He muttered a curse word against her mouth before turning to see whoever it was that had just walked in on them.

"Crap, Blondie," she heard Clarisse exclaim in that loud, boisterous voice of hers. Annabeth glanced over to see Clarisse standing in the doorway, her hand covering her eyes and her fingers split, providing a peephole for her to see them. "I definitely never thought I'd see this day."

Annabeth's face turned red. Percy was still lying right on top of her, their legs tangled together, and even though they were both fully clothed (for the most part – Percy was still shirtless), their position did appear suggestive. Annabeth buried her face in Percy's neck, her eyes stinging with embarrassed tears. She'd always hated that about herself, how she cried when she got angry, frustrated, or embarrassed. It wasn't that she was weak-minded; crying was just how her body responded to those emotions.

"Hello, Clarisse," Percy greeted, his voice low and calm and even, like there was nothing wrong at all. "Sorry for invading your privacy. Annabeth and I were just talking."

Annabeth peeked over at Clarisse, who brought her hand down and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, 'just talking', my butt," she muttered before walking briskly over to her side of the house and closing the curtain behind her.

Annabeth's face went back into Percy's neck. It was rather nice here, she thought. Her head fit perfectly in this little curve, almost like it was made for her to nestle into. She never wanted to leave it. She probably would have stayed there, clinging to Percy and her face buried in his skin, when she felt his hand on the back of her head, his fingers absently combing through her hair. Annabeth had to suppress a shiver.

"Annabeth?" he said, keeping his voice low so Clarisse wouldn't overhear. "I really do need to go now."

Reluctantly, Annabeth pulled away from him, resting her head back against the pillow beneath her. Percy smiled down at her and kissed her forehead before rolling off of her. Annabeth's eyes followed him as he picked up his discarded shirt and slung it back on over his head. As he put on his shoes, Annabeth sat up and scrambled over to her satchel, thrown carelessly on the floor in their haste to clean up Percy's wound the night before. She fished out her chalkboard and scribbled down some words. Percy eyed her curiously as she wrote. He finished trying his boots and stood, walking over to her.

"What're you writing?" he asked. Annabeth held up the board so he could read it, her eyes serious. There were two words written on it:

 _Be careful._

Percy's features softened. He cupped Annabeth's face in his hands and kissed her, softly and sweetly. "I will," he promised when he pulled away. "You stay safe too, okay? The Pit is a dangerous place."

Annabeth erased the words and quickly wrote down two more.

 _I noticed._

Percy laughed, kissed her again, and tried to turn away, but Annabeth stopped him by latching on to his shirt. She slipped her hands underneath the material and softly touched the bandages wrapped around his torso. Percy stiffened and Annabeth looked at him with wide eyes, biting her lip, hoping to convey to him how worried she was about him. How much she wished that he didn't have to go fight. There had to be other ways of surviving.

"Don't worry about me." He kissed her cheek, sending the butterflies living in Annabeth's stomach into a frenzy. She took her hands out from under his shirt and turned away, only to be stopped by Percy's hand on her hip, pulling her back against him. He had a goofy smile on his face as he leaned down and whispered into her ear, "Oh, and Annabeth?" He paused, turning his head and sliding his nose through her hair. Annabeth shivered, almost missing his next words. "I love you."

And all the air left Annabeth's body.

Percy pulled away, smiling like he knew what he was doing to her, and walked out of the house. Annabeth was still frozen in place until Clarisse poked her head out of her curtain. She followed Annabeth's eyes to the door. "You know what, Blondie?" she asked, her voice pensive. "I think that guy's growing on me." She studied Annabeth's frozen form and rolled her eyes. "Clearly, he's got you whipped."

It was enough to thaw Annabeth out. She sent a glare towards her roommate, who cackled and retreated back behind the curtain. Annabeth closed her own curtain before collapsing onto her bed and burying her face in her pillow. The pillow that smelled like the ocean. That smelled like Percy.

Annabeth curled up into a ball on the mattress and smiled.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

She saw her when she made her next food run.

She was sitting against a wall, her clothes threadbare and swallowing her thin frame. Her face was hollow and dirty, her dark eyes sinking into her skin, her lips thin and cracked, her skin falling into rolls of wrinkles. Her bony hands shook every time she moved them. Her legs weren't moving at all.

Annabeth froze when she saw her. Her satchel was full of fresh food, and usually Annabeth would be in a rush to get it home, praying that no one would catch her and hurt her to get the food. But this woman stopped her in her tracks.

Maybe it was because of the crinkles in the corners of her eyes, put there after years of smiling. Or maybe it was the laugh lines on her forehead and around her mouth. Maybe it was her bone-thin frame or maybe it was the fact that her legs weren't moving at all and Annabeth knew with absolute certainty that this woman was crippled.

Without even realizing what she was doing, Annabeth walked over to the woman and sat down in front of her, placing her satchel in her lap and protecting it with her arms. She pulled out her chalkboard and wrote down one simple word.

 _Hi._

The woman's confused face broke out into a smile. Annabeth matched it with her own smile and wrote her name on the board, showing it to the woman.

"Annabeth," she recited, her smile growing. "That's a lovely name."

Annabeth nodded her thanks and then fixed her with a look, prompting her to give Annabeth her own name.

"Amelia," the woman said.

Annabeth's smile grew and despite Annabeth's muteness and Amelia's age, they entered into an easy conversation. Annabeth asked how long Amelia had been here, to which she answered fifteen years. Annabeth was shocked to realize that Amelia's weathered look wasn't due to old age but due to malnutrition and living in the Pit for fifteen years. It sent a strike of fear through her. If Amelia looked like that, how much worse would Annabeth look in fifteen, twenty years?

Annabeth caught Amelia staring at the bag of food sitting in her lap and she fished out a few apples and bananas and gave them to her. The woman's eyes teared up and she thanked Annabeth over and over again for her gift.

"I don't know how you ended up here," she said, "but it's nice to see a kind face."

Annabeth smiled in thanks, but inside, she was confused. How did a woman like Amelia end up in here? Who would send a cripple inside the Pit, where it was all about survival of the fittest? Annabeth thought about Grover, Percy's roommate. He was a cripple as well, though not as bad as Amelia. He could still walk as long as he had his wooden crutches. Annabeth wondered how he ended up in the Pit as well. She'd only had a few conversation with him, but based on those conversations, he was the type of person to cry if he accidently stepped on a ladybug.

As time went on and she spent more time in the Pit, the more she met people who seemed to contradict what she had always learned about the Pit. She'd been taught that everyone here was cruel and heartless and evil. And sure, there were a ton of people here like that, but she'd learned that there were others as well. Others who were kind and gentle, if not just a little hardened by the cruelty of this prison. Clarisse, as tough as she may seem, was kind and almost loving when she wasn't angry. Annabeth had seen that when she'd told her about Chris, her childhood sweetheart. Grover was the gentlest person Annabeth had ever met and somehow, he'd gotten thrown in her, labeled as a monster along with everyone else.

And Percy. Percy, who fought to survive, who claimed to enjoy fighting, who contradicted everything Annabeth had ever thought about him. He was kind. His smile lit up Annabeth's entire world. He made her laugh and he held her when she cried. Everyone in Elysium had thought he was some psycho murderer who had killed his own brother when during his test. But Annabeth was learning that there was more to him, a depth as deep as the ocean floor that was just waiting to be explored. He was more than the brooding, angry person that everyone thought he was. They all were.

Percy, Clarisse, Grover, Amelia, and so many more that Annabeth had passed by every day. None of them belonged here in this hellhole. They were more than what they were labeled as.

"Annabeth!" she heard someone call out from behind her. Annabeth glanced behind her to find Percy jogging over to her, smiling wide.

Amelia giggled. "Your boyfriend?" she asked, her eyes sparkling. Annabeth nodded, her face turning red at the realization that she could call Percy her "boyfriend" now.

"He's handsome," Amelia concluded just as Percy reached them. He bent down and kissed Annabeth's forehead before turning and smiling at Amelia. "Hello," he greeted. "I'm Percy Jackson."

Amelia smiled and shook his outstretched hand. "I know who you are," she teased. "Everyone in the Pit does."

Percy turned red. "I really doubt that . . ."

"I'm Amelia," Amelia said, "and your girlfriend and I were just talking."

Percy grinned and wrapped an arm around Annabeth's shoulders. "Would you mind if I steal her for a little while? We have some important business to take care of."

Annabeth's eyes scrunched together. What important business? She had no idea what Percy was talking about, but Amelia was nodding her consent, saying that was fine as long as Annabeth came back to visit again. Percy met Annabeth's eyes, his own green orbs twinkling with pride as he promised that she would. He took her hand and dragged her to her feet, saying goodbye to Amelia. Then they turned away and Annabeth felt like her heart had expanded to three times its normal size.

There were others like Amelia, Annabeth knew. She had seen them on the streets, sleeping in empty alleyways, begging for food and water. Some were crippled like Amelia, others were mute like her, and others had different problems, like rashes and missing limbs and cleft lips. Annabeth wondered how they passed their tests, or if Luke even tested them. Maybe the tests were only for certain people.

Then again, the Pit was only supposed to be for certain people and Annabeth was slowly finding out that not everyone lined up with the requirements.

She let Percy drag her into the nearest empty alley, her head still fumbling through her new discoveries. Her mind cleared, however, when Percy pressed her against the wall, his hands firm on her hips and his body pressing into hers, holding her in place. He brought his face to her, his nose sliding along her cheek, tracing imaginary designs. His lips brushed hers a few times, but never long enough to be considered an appropriate kiss. Annabeth was frozen, wanting desperately for him to stop making her wait and just kiss her.

And when he did finally bring his mouth to hers, Annabeth's mind was wiped clean of all of her problems.

So. _This_ must have been the important business Percy had said they needed to attend to.

She wasn't really complaining.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Annabeth was walking back to her house after spending the afternoon with Amelia when she heard his voice.

Her blood ran cold. Luke hadn't spoken to her for the past two weeks, hadn't even glanced her way. Annabeth had almost thought that he had forgotten about her and the final test that she still needed to pass. Apparently, he hadn't. Her body went into high alert, preparing itself for an attack. The sky was dark and twinkling with stars. Percy was still off fighting somewhere. He usually met her at her house around midnight on nights like tonight. It was barely past eleven. She still had another hour before help would come.

She steeled herself and turned around, fixing her gaze on Luke's form jogging towards her. He stopped three feet in front of her, a smile on his face. Annabeth thought that he had a lot of nerve coming down here and acting like nothing was wrong, like he hadn't threatened to kill her more than once. The idea that he thought that they were perfectly okay made her angry.

"Hey," he greeted, shoving his hands into his pockets. There was a moment of awkward silence between them, like Luke wasn't really sure what to say. Finally, he asked, "You heading home?"

Annabeth hesitated before nodding. She turned back around and began to walk, Luke falling into step beside her. But instead of going straight until she reached her home six houses down, she turned right. She glanced over to see if Luke had noticed, but if Luke noticed that she'd taken a wrong turn, he didn't say anything. Annabeth continued walking like nothing was wrong.

"So, I was wondering," Luke said after they walked about a block in silence. "How are you settling in? I know it's been a couple months since you arrived and, well, since you're kinda quiet, I was just wondering how you're doing, I guess?" His voice was awkward and stilted, like he was nervous.

 _Oh, you know, besides almost starving to death and being beaten unconscious by your men, I'm settling in just fine!_

"Right," Luke said, like he knew what she was thinking. He rubbed the back of his neck in a nervous gesture. "I guess, well . . ." He trailed off helplessly. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry."

Annabeth stopped walking. She looked at Luke with wide, confused eyes. Was this the same Luke that had threatened to kill her because she'd failed to fight off five men at once? It couldn't be.

Luke stopped walking also and stepped in front of her. There was a lot less space than before between them and Annabeth resisted the urge to step back and but distance between their bodies.

Luke took her hands in his.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, meeting her eyes. "I'm sorry that I was so cruel. You proved to us that you're strong and that you belong here. Because you're right. Surviving is about more than just fighting. It's about being smart and cautious and I think you proved that you're more than capable of making those choices."

Annabeth let out a little gasp. She stared up at Luke, her eyes wide and stunned. Luke let go of her hand and brought his up to her face, stroking his thumb over her cheek. Annabeth's stomach turned, uneasy. She tried to step away, but Luke moved his hand to her waist, holding her in place.

"And I'm sorry," Luke continued, his face getting dangerously close to hers, "if I scare you. If I make you uncomfortable. I never intended to do that to you."

His lips pressed against her forehead. Annabeth went stone still, her heart hammering and a scream building up in her throat.

"Ever since you got here," Luke continued, "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. Your smile, your laugh, your determination. And when I kissed you by the canyon, it wrecked me. For so long, I'd been stuck in this hellhole, taking everything and wanting nothing, and then you came along, the one thing I couldn't have. But I want you, Annabeth. I want you so much I can hardly think straight when I'm around you."

His lips traveled to her cheek then to the corner of her lips. Fear coursed through her, and disgust. Luke's words were sweet, but his touch wasn't welcome and Annabeth couldn't find the words to tell him that.

"I think I'm in love with you, Annabeth," Luke whispered before his mouth covered hers.

It was everything that felt right with Percy reversed. Luke kissed her sweetly, yet passionately and every second was another second that Annabeth wanted to scream. She was pinned there, in the prison of Luke's arms, too afraid, too disgusted, too stunned to do anything but stand still. Her lips did not move with his. Her hands did not snake into his hair. Her eyes stayed open, scanning her surroundings for help, but Luke had chosen a good place to profess his love. There was no one around to see this, only the sound of the night.

Annabeth finally came to her senses and tried to pull away, but that only seemed to encourage Luke. He stumbled forward a few steps, pressing her back against the wall of some house behind them. Annabeth let out a gasp into his persistent mouth, just out of surprise. The action gave Luke the opportunity to deepen the kiss. His hands pressed against the wall on either side of her face, his body pressing into hers until she could barely breathe.

"Annabeth," he murmured in between kisses, "stay with me."

The words came as a shock and the fact that she was shocked surprised Annabeth.

"All the other men hate you," Luke continued. He'd paused in his kissing, pressing his forehead to Annabeth's. "They ganged up on you without my knowledge because they want you dead. I've always been unflappable, immovable in my leadership skills, but when it comes to you, I shake. They want you dead, but Annabeth, I can protect you. Stay with me and I won't let them lay a finger on you."

He kissed her again, this time deeper and harder. Annabeth brought her hands up to her chest and tried to push him off of her, but he was the stronger one of the two. He locked her in against the wall until she couldn't move couldn't breathe couldn't _think_. His lips moved from her mouth to her cheek to her jaw to her ear, leaving an invisible trail that sent bad shivers down Annabeth's spine. Her senses were overloading, her head felt like erupting, and

she

couldn't

breathe.

She forced herself to relax. She slumped against the wall, which only allowed more room for Luke to close. She told herself not to panic, that it would all turn out okay. She forced herself to remember the route to where Percy told her he would be tonight, drawing a map in her head. She went over all of the lessons that Percy and she had had, trying desperately to remember if he'd taught her anything to do if she was pinned how she was.

Luke's hands slipped beneath her shirt.

She wanted to cry in frustration. She wanted to scream and yell to the whole world how cruel it was. Instead, she fell limp as Luke's hands explored the skin beneath her shirt, inching farther up with every second. Annabeth let out a sob into his mouth. Immediately, Luke's hands froze and he pulled away to look at her face. He blanched when he realized she was crying.

"Annabeth—" He cut off with a grunt of pain as Annabeth kneed him in the groin. He fell back just enough that she was able to slip out from between him and the wall. The cool nighttime air was welcome on her flushed skin.

She felt him reach for her. She felt his fingers brush the skin that was exposed on her stomach. Annabeth cried out, jumping back, her skin burning at his unwanted touch.

"Annabeth," he tried again, but Annabeth stepped back out of his reach and maybe it was because she was scared or maybe it was panic or maybe the words had always been there, just waiting for an opportunity to be set free. Whatever the reason, Luke's stopped cold when Annabeth uttered out one word, her voice raspy but strong after years of silence.

"Stop."

Stop stop stop stop stop stop.

Luke froze, his mouth hanging open, and Annabeth turned and ran.

 **Guess what just got turned into a four-shot? Yup. You guessed correctly. I still have way too much to write.**

 **Thank you for all of the reviews!**

 **"** **For we are God's masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago." Ephesians 2:10**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: All PJO characters belong to Rick Riordan.**

The Pit

No no no no no no no.

That was all that was going through Annabeth's mind as she ran. She could hear Luke running behind her, calling out to her, his voice cracking with desperation, but he never caught up to her. She was smaller and lither than him and for once, Annabeth was grateful.

She ran, her feet following the path that her heart guided her on. She ran until she could hear the sound of people, the sound of a yelling mob. She ran into the alley, close to bursting with people straining over each other to see the fight happening before them. She was about to dive into the crowd, when she felt his hand latch onto her wrist. A scream ripped out of her throat and she wretched her arm away.

"Annabeth," Luke pleaded, breathing hard. "Please. Let me explain."

His eyes were wide and strangely sad. Annabeth turned away from him and pushed into the crowd, slithering in between people with expertise. Thoughts ran through her head, memories of Luke's ragged breath on her face and feeling so helpless. It went deeper than that, though, as memories of her uncle played before her eyes. She remembered the way he was when he was drunk, lumbering throughout the house, yelling nonsense. She remembered holding in her screams when she became the target of his drunken rage. She remembered the glass bottle he threw at her, remembered the pain of glass shattering against her skin. She'd had bruises for days, causing whispers from her classmates. She remembered his raunchy breath on her face, how he used to press her against the wall just like Luke had, only to be spared by her jealous aunt.

Annabeth broke through the crowd and reached the front. Five feet in front of her, Percy stood, looking blessedly unharmed. The other guy, however, looked like he'd just been put through a meat grinder. His nose was crooked and swollen, trickles of blood coming out of it. Blood ran down his face, coming from his temple. He was breathing heavy, like every breath hurt. He was half a foot shorter than Percy but he seemed even smaller as Percy towered over him, his eyes narrowed, taking his time in delivering the final blow.

"Percy," Annabeth sobbed. "Percy." She kept repeating his name without even thinking, the sound bubbling up her throat and slipping out of her lips.

Percy stiffened. He slowly turned, the crowd surrounding them murmuring with confusion. His eyes flicked sharply to Annabeth's and then widened when it clicked that _she_ was the one who had spoken. He stared at her, frozen, until Luke came into view behind her. His eyes narrowed. His face suddenly switched from the impassive expression he normally wore during these street fights to angry and bloodthirsty.

"Annabeth," Luke said, his breath raising the hairs on the back of her neck. "Annabeth, _please_."

He reached for her elbow. Annabeth jerked away, shaking her head violently. With every second that he was standing there, it was getting harder to breathe. She focused her attention on Percy and took deep breaths. She would not have a panic attack. She would not have a panic attack.

 _She was having a panic attack._

Growing up, panic attacks happened often. In the lunch room, at recess, in the middle of the night. It didn't matter where she was. If something triggered her memories, she would panic and stop breathing. The walls would close in around her, giving her severe claustrophobia, and her eyes would grow wide, staring into the air in front of her like she saw some horror that no one else did. And in a way, she kind of did. She saw her memories, and that was the worst horror of all.

She watched as Percy punched his opponent in the temple, sending him crumpling to the ground. The crowd screamed and cheered, but Percy looked like he was above it all as he walked toward Annabeth, eyes blazing with anger, and took her elbow, pulling her through the crowd with him. Annabeth didn't see Luke anymore and she didn't know where he had gone, but she was thankful that he wasn't near her anymore.

Panic clawed at her throat. She couldn't _breathe_ . . .

Percy pulled her out of the crowd. He walked a couple more blocks before stopping and turning to face her. His eyes were still angry, but they were also laced with concern. Annabeth focused on his eyes. They were pretty. They reminded her of the ocean. She'd never been to the ocean, but she'd read about it and seen pictures. Percy's eyes made her feel like she was there, watching the lapping waves. It made her feel peaceful.

She hadn't realized she'd said all of that out loud until Percy chuckled bitterly. "Thanks," he said. He brought a hand up and brushed the hair out of her face. His fingers felt good on her skin. She decided to tell him that. He laughed a little before concern took over again. "Annabeth, what happened? What did he do to you? Why are you acting like this?"

And just like that, the panic was back. Luke, his hands on her body, his lips on her mouth, sucking all of the air out of her lungs. Her uncle, his beady eyes, his raunchy breath. Annabeth gasped, bringing a hand up to her mouth. Percy's face looked panicky, but he quickly covered it up, telling her that she was okay, that there was nothing to worry about, that she was safe and he would protect her. Annabeth let herself fall against him, let herself cry her tears into his neck. Her body shook and Percy's arms quickly came around her, squeezing her against him. He brought his lips to her ear, telling her things that Annabeth couldn't really hear over the roar in her mind.

She was safe she was safe she was safe she was safe she was safe.

Why was that so difficult to believe?

Annabeth felt Percy stiffen against her. She pulled away from him, wiping her eyes. It took her a minute to register the fact that Luke was standing five feet away from them, staring at her like she was some alien life form.

"Luke," Percy growled. He pushed Annabeth behind him.

Luke's eyes followed her. "Him?" he asked, incredulous. "You're choosing him over me?"

"What did you do to her, Luke?" Percy demanded. His voice was calm, like the ocean before a storm. Annabeth knew from his shaking body that he was about to erupt.

Luke ignored him. "I could give you everything, Annabeth," he said. "I could protect you, and you're choosing _him_?" His voice sounded desperate and heartbroken and something else that Annabeth couldn't quite identify.

Something like hatred.

"What did you do to her, Luke?" Percy demanded again, his voice growing louder. Luke turned his attention to Percy, his face melting into an anger that shook Annabeth to the bone. "Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about," Percy threatened. "Do you see her? She's trembling. She's crying. She's _talking_. Luke, you terrified her. _What did you do?"_

"I kissed her," Luke sneered, not one ounce of regret in his voice. "I kissed her and you know what? I would do it again if I could."

Percy took a step forward. "Don't you _dare_ touch her again," he threatened. His voice was calm but it shook with an intensity that froze Annabeth in place. "If you lay even a finger on her, I will make you pay. I will chop off every limb one by one until you're nothing but a scream echoing in the distance."

Percy's words shook with anger. Luke glared, his nostrils flaring, before reaching his hand up and punching Percy in the face.

Annabeth screamed. Percy reeled back, visibly stunned that Luke had hit him. Then he came back and with more force than Annabeth had ever seen, he hit Luke back. The two grappled, swinging their arms left and right, the sound of fists colliding with skin echoing in the air. Their eyes were alight with fire and anger and their faces were grim and it in the dim firelight, the scene was gruesome.

"No," Annabeth gasped. Her head was spinning. She felt like passing out. She took a hesitant step forward, but her legs shook. She felt like she was walking on air, skating twisting twirling gliding through a storm cloud and she had no control over what happened or where she ended up and oh Luke just punched Percy in the gut and he's _not breathing_ and suddenly she isn't breathing because Percy's hurt and Luke's going to kill him and and and

"No," she repeated, her voice breathy and raspy. "No. Stop. Percy, please. Stop. I can't lose you. I can't lose you . . ." She trailed off, both boys staring at her. Percy's eyes were laced with guilt, but Luke just looked angry. He was steaming.

"You want him, Annabeth?" he asked in a low, deadly voice. "You want _him_?" He paused, staring at her with wide, hurt, betrayed eyes. Annabeth stared back, suddenly unable to breathe under his gaze. It made her body go cold. Luke shook his head angrily. "Fine. You can have him. But watch your back."

With that, he ran off.

"I'm sorry," Annabeth said. "I'm so sorry. I, I made him angry and he turned it on you and oh, this is all my fault. I should have just let him kiss me, I should have given him what he wanted, I shouldn't have been so forceful. You're not hurt are you? I think I have some extra bandages back at my place. I can go get them if you want . . ." She continued rambling, finding that now that she was talking after ten years of silence, it was hard to stop. The words felt strange in her mouth, like a foreign language. She supposed it was. For ten years, she'd been speaking in the language of touch and glances and facial expressions. Speaking actual words felt so different now.

Percy seemed to be ignoring her. He took her arm and gently led her through the Pit. Annabeth continued speaking, though she had no idea what she was even saying anymore. She let Percy lead her to his house. He opened the door and set her on his bed.

"This is really comfy," she said. "I like your bed. I like your house. It's a lot cozier than mine. Do you think I can stay here?"

Percy's lips turned up in a half smile. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to Annabeth's forehead. "We'll see," he promised.

The curtain on the other side of the room opened, revealing an incredulous Grover. He stared at Annabeth, open-mouthed and wide-eyed. Annabeth didn't know what to do, so she brought up a hand and waved.

"Hi," she said.

Grover sputtered. He turned his stunned expression to Percy. "I thought she was mute?" he said, turning up the end of the sentence like a question.

Percy shook his head. His arm was around Annabeth and his fingers were dancing over her shoulder. It felt good.

"Long story." Percy's voice was back to its hard, angry tone. "I need you to go find Clarisse. Tell her that Annabeth is in trouble and that I need her."

Grover was still staring at Annabeth and honestly, Annabeth was getting a little uncomfortable. She fidgeted under his gaze. "But—"

"Go get Clarisse." Percy's voice and hard and cruel and authoritative. Grover visibly gulped and scurried out of the house. Once he was gone, Percy turned back to Annabeth and brushed the hair out of her face. Annabeth stared at him with a cocked head, thinking that he sure was going through a lot of trouble just for her.

"Annabeth." When Percy spoke now, his tone wasn't harsh and scary. It was soft and tender and loving. "Annabeth, it's important that you tell me what happened. Everything. Did he . . .?"

Annabeth knew what Percy was asking, but she didn't want to answer. Thinking about what he was asking brought up too many bad memories. Annabeth imagined the steel door that served as the gate to the Pit. She imagined it slamming closed, keeping out all of the bad, horrible memories she had stored up in her head. Instead of answering Percy's question, she said, "You're cute when you're worried. Your eyebrows get all scrunched together."

Percy's cheeks went red, but he managed to stay serious. He gripped Annabeth's hands. "Annabeth," he repeated, more urgently this time. "Listen to me. Listen. Are you listening?" He brought his hands away from hers and cupped her face instead. He peered down into her eyes, not saying another word until she nodded that _yes_ , she was listening. Percy continued, "You have to tell me everything that happened. Did he . . . are you . . . did he rape you?"

And there it was. That word. That horrible, monstrous, beast of a word. Annabeth tensed under Percy's touch, her body rigid as that door she'd sealed shut in her mind burst open, all of her memories pouring out.

Annabeth was a virgin. Plain and simple. She'd never been raped, but she'd come pretty close to it a few times, tonight being one of those moments. The sensation of being trapped by someone's body was all too familiar to her and it opened a floodgate in her head, pouring out screams and cries and desperate pleas for her death. Annabeth closed her eyes tight, as if by doing so, she could turn herself off. But unfortunately, humans weren't machines that could just be turned on and off whenever. The color red flashed across Annabeth's eyelids, reminding her of blood and pain and tears. It swirled and twisted and danced a whole recital.

She remembered being thrown against the wall.

She remembered her screams, the only sound that she'd allowed herself to make.

She remembered being hit over and over until she was practically unconscious.

She remembered wondering if she deserved it.

"Annabeth," Percy said, his voice cutting into her thoughts. He was shaking her shoulders. "Annabeth. Stop. Stop. You're scaring me."

Luke. Her uncle. Her aunt. Her cousins.

"Annabeth, you're shaking."

Their faces kept getting mixed up in her mind.

"Annabeth, open your eyes."

She opened her eyes to find his concerned green ones. Tears began to build up, making her vision blurry. She was shaking, she realized. She was _trembling_. Percy had his arms wrapped around her and he was pulling her towards him until she fell against his chest, her head finding the crook where his neck met his shoulder. She stayed there, silently crying and messing with the material of Percy's shirt. And Percy held her and she should be okay but she wasn't okay because all of her childhood memories had been triggered.

The door burst open and Grover ran in with a very concerned Clarisse in tow. She was panting and staring at Annabeth like she was expecting her to be lying dead on the ground and it just wasn't registering that she wasn't.

"Clarisse," Annabeth said, pulling away from Percy. "Clarisse. Clarisse." Annabeth liked the way the name felt in her mouth.

Clarisse's jaw dropped. "Holy crap," she said. "She's talking. She's really talking."

Annabeth's face went red and she glanced back down, twisting the material of Percy's shirt in her hands. His shirt was dark blue and thin and felt super soft against Annabeth's skin. When he pulled away from her, Annabeth's hands reached out, grasping air, not wanting to let go of him just yet.

"I need you to figure out what's wrong with her," Percy was telling Clarisse.

Clarisse turned her baffled expression towards him. "Why do you think that _I'm_ going to be able to help her?" she demanded. "I barely know her."

"You're her roommate," Percy pointed out, visibly frustrated. He ran a hand through his hair. "And you're a girl. You're naturally better at this stuff than I am. But she won't stop shaking and crying and babbling and I don't know what to do."

Clarisse looked just as frustrated as Percy was, and clearly uncomfortable with the idea. Annabeth brought her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them and watched the three people in front of her, completely detached. She felt like she was watching a movie. None of this felt real.

"You're her boyfriend!" Clarisse exclaimed. "If you can't help her, how can I?"

"Clarisse," Percy said, bowing his head to look in her eyes. "Please." He paused, biting his lip like he was unsure of what he was about to say. "Luke . . . hurt her," he explained solemnly. Clarisse's eyes widened. "He said that he kissed her, but I don't know exactly how far he went and Annabeth is panicking and I don't know what to do."

Clarisse stared at him and it seemed as though a silent understanding passed between them. Clarisse turned and walked towards Annabeth, stopping in front of her and crossing her arms. Annabeth looked up at her, her figure blurring through her tears.

She heard the door open and close. Annabeth's eyes jerked to the door, panic clawing up her throat when she realized that Percy had left.

"Percy," she gasped, hands shaking. "Percy."

Clarisse rolled her eyes. "He's just outside, Blondie," she explained. "Calm down. Gods above, you're acting like one of those giggly girls who can't stand to be away from their boyfriend for five minutes."

Annabeth sniffled and buried her face in her knees. Luke's face flashed before her eyes and she curled up into a tighter ball. Maybe the smaller she was, the more she could ignore her problems.

She felt weight settle onto the bed next to her. It was silent for a minute or two until Clarisse cleared her throat. "So, um," she began awkwardly, "Percy told me what's going on." She paused. "Are you alright?"

A laugh bubbled up and out of Annabeth's throat. She brought her head up and looked at her roommate. "No," she answered. "No, I'm not alright. I'm shaking and I'm scared and I don't want to be here and I don't want to remember."

Clarisse matched Annabeth's laugh with one of her own. "Well, at least you're honest." Annabeth sighed and settled against the wall, waiting for Clarisse to say more. She didn't for another five minutes and Annabeth was starting to think that maybe she'd been let off easy. Then, "I've lived here my entire life."

Annabeth turned to look at her. "I know."

Clarisse chuckled bitterly and continued. "I've lived here since I was born. Never left. I've walked past those prostitutes all chained up out there every day of my life. I've seen people murdered. I've seen people starve to death. I've heard the sound of a woman who just lost her child. I've heard the cry of a child who just lost their mother. I've felt the gaze of a man and I've definitely felt the gaze of a man who you don't want gazing at you." She paused and let out a long, hard breath. Twisted her hands. Brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Then she said, "I don't know what Luke did to you. I know he kissed you. I don't know if he did anything else. But even if he just _touched_ you when you didn't want to be touched, I understand how terrifying that can be. I get it. But don't let him win. Put it behind you and move on."

Annabeth stared at her fingers. Clarisse's word were harsh, but her tone was gentle. Annabeth understood what Clarisse was saying, but it just seemed too bizarre to Annabeth. Her panic was about much more than unwanted advances from Luke. It dated back to years ago, when she was just a young orphan living with her only relatives. How could she get past a wound that cut so deep?

"He didn't rape me," Annabeth said. She felt Clarisse's stare, but decided to ignore it. She looked straight ahead as she spoke. "He kissed me and he touched me, but he didn't rape me. If he had, I probably would have cut off his privates."

For a minute, there was silence. Then Clarisse let out a bark of laughter. "You know, Blondie," she said, "I'm really glad you're talking now."

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Percy and Grover came back in five minutes later. Annabeth was still sitting on Percy's bed, her knees curled to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. But she wasn't crying anymore and Annabeth thought that that was something that should be noted.

Her head felt clearer now. She'd stopped trembling and that rising panic that had bubbled in her chest and throat was mostly gone. It was crazy to think that Clarisse, of all people, had managed to calm her down, but Annabeth was thankful. She felt like her and her roommate had crossed a line and were heading in a direction that looked a little like friendship.

Percy was watching her. Annabeth looked up and met his eyes. Worry and apprehension swam in them, but Annabeth thought she also saw a little bit of relief. Relief that she was okay. Relief that she wasn't still a blubbering mess.

"Come on, Goat Boy," Clarisse said, grabbing Grover's hand and dragging him towards the door. "You're staying at my place for the night."

Grover looked confused, furrowing his eyebrows. "But—"

Clarisse cut him off with a pointed look. Grover looked between Percy and Annabeth and his eyes cleared in understanding. He nodded and let Clarisse drag him out of the house. Annabeth was grateful that he was staying somewhere else. She couldn't imagine being separated from Percy at a time like this and she didn't want Grover to feel awkward.

The door shut with a loud bang. Annabeth jumped a little bit, pulling her legs closer to her. She didn't dare look Percy in the eye. Though she was calmer, she was still slightly shaken up. She didn't want Percy to see just how terrified she still was.

She should say something. But when she tried, all of the words that had been flowing out of her minutes before had abandoned her, leaving her just as mute as before. She cleared her throat as best she could and said, "Percy, I—"

"Stop," Percy commanded. Annabeth snapped her mouth shut. Percy's voice was strained and Annabeth vaguely wondered if he was _angry_. But then he continued, saying, "Say it again. My name."

Annabeth looked up and met his eyes. His gaze was trained on hers, his expression filled with . . . _something._ Annabeth swallowed and said his name again. Her voice was raspy and barely audible, but Percy's lips turned up into the barest of smiles and he broke out of whatever spell he'd been under, taking three steps until he was kneeling in front of her. His hands came up to cup her face and he brought his forehead to hers.

"Annabeth," he replied before kissing her. It was slow and languid and sent a shiver all the way down to Annabeth's toes. She slipped off of the bed, falling to her knees in front of Percy. He collected her in his arms, smashing her against him like she was nothing more than a rag doll. Annabeth could hardly think. She whispered his name against his lips, finding that she enjoyed saying it as much as he enjoyed hearing it. To finally be able to say the name of the person who meant so much to her, who'd loved her for so many years, brought her so much happiness.

"I love hearing your voice," Percy said, speaking the words straight into her mouth. Annabeth smiled, her sight wavering dangerously with tears.

Eventually, they found it within themselves to separate long enough to catch their breath. They sat next to each other, leaning back against the bed. Annabeth stared down at her lap and focused on the feeling of Percy sitting beside her and not on the question she knew he was about to ask.

"What happened?"

Annabeth closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the bed. She could feel Percy's stare piercing into her like a hot iron rod. "He didn't rape me," Annabeth said, the same words she had said to Clarisse only minutes before. "He just . . . kissed me. And I freaked out." She paused, allowing herself to collect her thoughts and control her breathing. "It was like I was having an out-of-body experience. You know, one of those situations where you're there but you're not really _there_? It was like I was watching it, like it was a scene from a movie or something. Like it wasn't really happening to me. And then it sunk in that it _was_ happening and all of this fear and emotion rose up in my throat and I, I panicked, I guess."

Annabeth opened her eyes and tilted her head until she could see Percy. He was watching her still, his beautiful green eyes focused in like she was the only thing in the world. Her hands were shaking before he even uttered the question, "What really happened, Annabeth?"

She bit her lip, tearing her gaze away from his. He wasn't asking about Luke. He wasn't asking what had happened that night. He was wondering about what had happened that made her the way she was. Why had she gone mute? What had happened to her that caused her to be the way that she was?

She didn't want to tell him, but she knew that she needed to. He deserved to know.

"My brother," she murmured, her voice strained with emotional pain. "My parents. They burned to death."

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

" _Checkmate," Malcolm said, a victorious smirk transforming his boyish face. "I win."_

 _Annabeth stared at the chessboard, her child's brain gears whirring to make sense of her brother's move. "What . . ." she started, her lips curling up in disgust. "That's not fair. You cheated."_

" _How did I cheat?"_

 _Now it was Annabeth's turn to smirk as she very calmly explained to her twin how you can't move a pawn backwards, even to make a kill. Malcolm's face scrunched up in frustration and he wiped all of the chess pieces off of the board, causing Annabeth to screech. She scrambled to collect them all before one was lost to No Man's Land, also known as the space beneath the couch. She let out a small breath of relief when she got all of the pieces together and began to organize them neatly in their box._

" _How come you always beat me?" Malcolm asked. His voice was tinged with irritation, but Annabeth knew that it wasn't directed at her. Malcolm adored her._

" _I guess I'm just smarter than you." Malcolm scoffed while Annabeth fell into a fit of giggles. However, Malcolm quickly got over himself and began to help her pick up their game, poking her with a knight as he did._

" _So what do you want to do now?" Annabeth asked after they finished cleaning up their game. The two six-year-olds fell onto Malcolm's bed, staring up at the popcorn ceiling. Almost subconsciously, Annabeth's hands found Malcolm's and she slipped her small fingers through his. It was a habit she'd had for as long as she could remember. It had started as a way to calm Malcolm down, she supposed, when he was having one of his meltdowns, but had slowly evolved into a way for Annabeth to seek comfort. As long as she had her brother beside her, she felt like she could do anything and she knew that Malcolm felt the same._

 _Annabeth had overheard their parents talking about Malcolm's "condition". That's what they had called it. A "condition". It had a big fancy name that Annabeth could remember – obsessive-compulsive disorder – but couldn't pronounce, so she called it by their initials: OCD. That's what their parents called it too. This condition made Malcolm different and it explained the meltdowns. He was also really bossy, which Annabeth contributed to this condition as well. Her parents spoke of this "condition" like it was a bad thing, but it made Malcolm who he was and Annabeth liked her brother exactly how he was._

" _We could play pretend," Malcolm suggested and Annabeth immediately perked up. She loved playing pretend. She loved pretending to be someone else, whether that was a princess or a slave girl. She loved the freedom it gave her, like she could do anything and be anything._

" _Okay," she agreed. "What do you want to be? I want to be a princess."_

 _Malcolm scrunched his eyebrows together, thinking. Finally, he said, "I want to be a knight."_

 _Annabeth squealed with delight and jumped up off of the bed, dragging Malcolm with her. "You can be my knight in shining armor!" she cried as they ran into her bedroom, where her closet full of dress-up clothes were. Annabeth very rarely wore anything but her costumes, so instead of a closet full of shirts and pants, she had a closet full of princess dresses and fairy wings and plastic slippers. Malcolm even stuffed his own dress-up costumes in here, though Annabeth always complained that his superhero outfits looked out of place in all of the fanciness._

 _Annabeth grabbed her golden ball gown from off of a hanger and quickly changed into it. It was her favorite gown, probably because it was a copy of Belle's ball gown from Beauty and the Beast, Annabeth's favorite movie. She absolutely_ idolized _Belle._

 _When Annabeth turned around, Malcolm was dressed in his Tin Man costume from The Wizard of Oz. That was always his go-to costume when he played a knight since they didn't have an actual suit of armor laying around._

 _Malcolm smiled at her and bowed low, already beginning to play. "My dear fair princess," he said in a fake, low voice. "My name is Sir Malcolm and I am here to rescue you from the evil clutches of the Galactic Raptor!" Annabeth giggled and squealed, running around Malcolm and out of the closet door as Malcolm suddenly morphed into the evil dinosaur that guarded Annabeth's "tower". She heard Malcolm's footsteps as he ran after her, still making disgusting sounds of an evil dinosaur and the randomly switching to being a valiant knight._

 _They played for what seemed like hours, running through the house and through the yard, yelling and giggling. Annabeth twirled around in her dress, feeling like a princess, and feeling so, so happy. She even made herself a flower crown outside when she and Malcolm paused for a small snack break._

 _And then everything went wrong. They were in Malcolm's room, Annabeth standing on top of his bed while Malcolm pantomimed fighting the Galactic Raptor, when she smelled it._

" _What's that smell?" she asked Malcolm._

 _He paused his battle and sniffed the air. "It smells like . . . smoke." He locked eyes with her and then scrambled for the door, Annabeth following in hot pursuit. Her dad must be cooking. He always burned things when he cooked and it was funny to watch him get all red in the face._

 _But what Annabeth and Malcolm found in the kitchen was not a red-faced father, but flames. Lots and lots of flames._

 _A beeping sound filled the house._

 _Annabeth screamed._

 _Malcolm coughed._

 _The shock wore off quickly and Malcolm and Annabeth did what they had been taught to do in these situations. Both of them fell to their hands and knees and scrambled away from the kitchen, heading to the front door. Smoke was filling the house and Annabeth found it hard to breathe. She coughed and she wheezed and she thought she might be dying._

 _They found that the family room was quickly being overtaken by flames. When Annabeth saw that the path to the front door was blocked by a fiery wall of red and yellow, a sob escaped her throat. She jumped to her feet, ignoring everything that she's been taught to do in a fire, and ran down the hall to her parents' bedroom, coughing and waving her arm in front of her face to clear the smoke out. Malcolm ran after her, calling her name, his own voice raspy in the hot air. Annabeth ignored him, her little feet padding to the end of the hall. She flung open the door to find both of her parents in there. Her dad had an arm wrapped around her mom's waist and her mom . . . her mom . . ._

 _Her mother was unconscious, a small trickle of blood running down her temple._

 _Her dad's eyes widened when he saw the twins. "Get out!" he yelled, his voice full of desperation and pain. "Get out of the house! Malcolm, get your sister and get out!"_

" _Daddy . . ." Annabeth whimpered, tears running down her face as she stared at her parents. Flames had made it into their room as well. Flames had made it into every part of their house. Their house was made of flames now. Annabeth felt like she was made of flames too._

 _Malcolm tugged on her arm and Annabeth stumbled after him, sobbing. He ran into his room, which was covered in flames that they could barely see anything. At least, Annabeth couldn't see anything. Malcolm seemed to be able to because he dragged Annabeth through the flame-ridden room and pushed her up onto his bed, unlatching the window like he had done it a million times. And he probably had, Annabeth thought somewhere in the back of her panicked mind. He always opened the window when having a meltdown._

 _The window swung open and before Annabeth knew it, she was being pushed through. She screamed, catching herself on the ledge before she could fall to the ground six feet below._

" _You gotta jump, Annabeth," Malcolm pleaded, his small face beaded with sweat and tears. He kept trying to push her down but Annabeth held on._

" _No," she refused. "I'm not leaving this house without you."_

" _I'll be right behind you," Malcolm promised. A strained sob broke through Annabeth's lips and his face softened. He put a small arm around Annabeth's shoulders and pulled her into a tight hug. "It's time the princess saves herself," he whispered in her ear. He pressed a kiss onto her cheek and with one final strong shove, he pushed Annabeth off of the ledge and to the ground six feet below, to safety. Annabeth landed on her arm and heard a sharp crack as searing pain ran through her body. Still, she pushed herself to her feet and ran a few feet away, giving Malcolm room to land when he jumped out._

 _He never did._

 _Annabeth screamed and choked and sobbed when she heard a loud explosion and the house fell to the flames, taking her family with it._

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

"The flames had hit the gas line to our stove," Annabeth explained, a few tears running down her cheeks. "I didn't find that out until later. The soldiers had told me what happened. My mom was cooking dinner and had left the stove on by accident. Later, my dad walked by and accidentally spilled a little bit of alcohol in it. The stove erupted into flames. My mom ran to their room to grab her phone and call the fire department, but tripped over something and hit her head. My dad just couldn't get us and her out in time. I was the only one who survived."

Percy's expression was carefully concealed, showing no signs of emotion, but he reached his hand over and interlocked their fingers. Annabeth was grateful for him.

"I went mute after that. I never meant to, but I was six years old and my entire family had just died. I didn't know how to deal with the pain, so I just bottled it all up and didn't speak. Then I moved in with my aunt and uncle and their four kids. I'd never met them before because of some falling out my aunt and my dad had when they were young. I was a little wary, but at first, it was fine. I was just a kid and I'd just lost my family. Who would hurt a child like that? But after about a year passed, they began to show their true colors. My cousins were awful. They hid tarantulas in my sheets and tore the pages out of my favorite books. One time, they even locked me in a closet for the entire day." Annabeth shuddered, remembering the darkness and her rumbling stomach and erupting bladder. "My aunt was no help, of course. Either she was really dense or really cruel, but she saw her children as perfect angels and me as a devil child. She was always going on and on about how she should have never taken me in because I was just a burden and a thorn in her side."

Percy muttered a foul word under his breath and even through her tears, Annabeth cracked a smile before continuing.

"My uncle was a drunk. I don't know how he was ever chosen for Elysium. In fact, I don't know how any of them were chosen for Elysium. They were all terrible. My uncle was the worst, though. He came home drunk practically every night. My aunt and he didn't get along very well and if I was still up, completing the endless list of chores my aunt had given me, I would become the target of his anger. He . . ." Annabeth's voice broke. "He threw empty beer bottles at me while I was scrubbing the floor. He'd use his fists on particularly bad nights. And when I got older, he'd give me these weird looks that would make my skin crawl and it took me forever to realize that the reason for those looks and the reason why my aunt always acted jealous of me was because he _wanted_ me."

Annabeth stopped talking, letting everything she had just said sink in for Percy. He let out a slow breath, his body rigid beside hers. "Did he . . . ?" he asked.

Annabeth shook her head vigorously. "No," she said quickly. "No, nothing like that. But . . . almost. If my aunt didn't always stop him." She paused again. "I think that's why I freaked out so much tonight. I went back to that place and I panicked."

Percy shifted next to her, turning his body so that he was facing her. Annabeth turned to look at him and he reached out and brushed a tendril of hair behind her ear. The gesture was so tender and affectionate that Annabeth wanted to sob.

"I'm sorry that you had to go through that," Percy said. "And I swear by all the gods in the universe that if I ever come face to face with your aunt or uncle or any one of your cousins, I will kill them. Okay?"

Annabeth nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek against her will. She brought her hand up to wipe it away, but Percy's lips got there first. He kissed her tear away and this small action struck Annabeth as one of the tenderest things anyone had ever done for her.

"Percy," Annabeth said slowly. "May I ask you a question?"

"Anything."

Annabeth swallowed before asking, "What happened to Ryland?"

Percy stiffened at the mention of his dead brother's name. Annabeth sat patiently beside him, waiting for him to begin speaking. It took him a minute, but he eventually mustered up the courage to say, "Did you have the take the test?"

Annabeth was slightly taken aback by his question. The answer was no, she never had to take the test to see which place she belonged in. It was an aptitude test; they compared your results to your twin's and based their decision on those results. That was the real test: how you compare to your twin. Annabeth didn't have a twin when she turned sixteen, therefore, she had no one to compare her test results to.

Percy nodded at Annabeth's head shake. "I didn't think so," he said. "Well, the tests are cruel and torturous. On one part, they present you with a series of choices. Some of them are easy, like deciding between foods and ordinary items. But some of them are a lot harder, like trying to decide whether to spare someone's life or kill them. Another part is gaging your reactions to things. One specific test is putting you face-to-face with your biggest fear and seeing how you deal with it.

"Ryland was . . . he had anxiety. No one knew about it because he was on pills and stuff and he visited a therapist every week. He had it under control. But going through all of those tests, having to face your biggest fears – it triggered an anxiety attack. I tried to help him. Sometimes, he had these at home and my mom and I would have to talk to him to get him back to normal. I guess that's what I was going to do then: just talk to him, tell him he was okay, and get him back under control. But the soldiers caught me before I could get to him. So I did what I did best; I fought through all of those soldiers until I could get to my brother. But by the time I finally managed to get there, the man in charge of the entire operation, he – he –" Percy broke off, his voice wavering. Annabeth squeezed his hand, encouraging him to continue just the way he had encouraged her.

"He was holding a gun to Ryland's head. He said that this was the final part of the test and that I had to choose between Ryland and myself. Which one of us would die? So I surrendered myself. I threw up my hands and gave up my life. And that man smiled and shot Ryland in the head.

"I don't really remember what happened after that. It was like you described feeling tonight with Luke. I was there, but I wasn't really there. I was kicking and screaming and I vaguely remembered being dragged out, but all I could really think about was Ryland laying on the floor in a pool of his own blood."

He paused and Annabeth thought he was finished talking. She felt like she should say something, though she had no idea what to say. "Percy, I—"

"You make me feel good, Annabeth," Percy continued, his voice thick. "After Ryland's death, I spent two years in here, wishing that it had been me lying dead on that floor. I fought and fought and _killed_ and thought about how I was the one who deserved to die. Ryland was going places. He was smart. He was friendly. I was the screw-up."

"You're not a screw-up," Annabeth said weakly. "It's not your fault. No one blames you. You couldn't have possibly known that the man was going to shoot your brother."

Percy's lips twitched with the ghost of a smile. "See? That's what I'm talking about. You always believe the best about people, even if they don't think that it's true." He paused, shaking his head. "I don't care what your aunt and uncle and cousins said about you. With you, Annabeth, I feel different. Like I could be someone worthy of _living_."

Annabeth smiled and Percy leaned forward, his lips meeting hers. His mouth was slow and languid as it moved against hers. This kiss was different from the rest. This was a kiss shared between two broken people who found a wholeness within each other.

Percy's lips moved from her mouth to her cheek. "You're beautiful," he whispered against her skin. Annabeth smiled, staying still as he placed his lips on her other cheek.

"You're gentle."

Her nose.

"You're stunning."

Her eyelids.

"You're strong."

Her forehead.

"You're mine."

And Annabeth fell

fell

fell

fell until there was nothing left to fall into. Percy kept kissing her, whispering those words over and over again, reminding her that despite her past, despite everyone and everything that she had lost, he was there and he would love her broken pieces.

"I love you," she whispered, freezing Percy in the act of kissing the skin behind her ear. He slowly drew away from her, his face irritatingly unreadable. She stared at him, her breath lodged in her throat, her hands trembling. But then his lips broke into a huge grin and he was tackling her to the ground and she couldn't breathe because he was kissing the breath right out of her. And as they lost themselves in laughter and stars and stolen kisses, Annabeth thought that maybe she might have found something permanent in Percy Jackson.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Annabeth's eyes flew open, a gasp escaping her mouth that was so loud, she was afraid she had awakened the entire street. Moonlight streamed in from the window above her bed, illuminating the room with an eerie glow. The wind blew through the Pit, moaning out a depressing ballad in the night. Annabeth ignored all of this, however, her brain whirring.

Amelia, the crippled lady in the street. Grover. Clarisse. Percy. Herself.

It all made sense now.

Annabeth jumped out of bed, shoving her boots onto her feet and running over to Clarisse's side of the room and shaking her awake. "Clarisse," Annabeth whisper-yelled. "Clarisse, wake up!"

Clarisse groaned, cracking an eye open and glaring at Annabeth. "Why are you waking me up at this God-forsaken hour? I thought you were a chill roommate."

Annabeth ignored her, pulling back the blankets from over Clarisse's body. "We have to go to Percy's. We have to tell them."

Clarisse slowly sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Tell them what? What is going on?"

Annabeth slipped a sweater on over her tank top. "I know why we're here. Why all of us are here."

That caught Clarisse's attention. She didn't argue anymore while she threw on a jacket and some boots, following Annabeth out into the chilly desert night. They swiftly made their way to Percy and Grover's house, both looking around wildly for any soldier who might catch them. Technically, curfew was at one in the morning and though the guards were pretty relaxed here, letting the citizens do practically anything they wanted, Annabeth didn't want to risk getting caught. Not when she had such important information.

They safely made it to the house and Annabeth pounded on the door. After a minute, Percy answered, sleepy-eyed and shirtless. He focused on Annabeth and smiled at her. Annabeth would have blushed if she wasn't so focused on her new discovery. "Hey, Annabeth."

"I know why we're here," Annabeth said. "Let us in."

Percy's eyes widened and he moved out of the doorway, allowing Annabeth and Clarisse to enter. Clarisse went and sat on Grover's bed, who was sitting up, yawning and rubbing his eyes. "What's going on?" he asked.

"It's the Island of Misfit Toys," Annabeth blurted. The others all stared at her like she was speaking German. Annabeth curled her hands into fists and continued, explaining, "It's from that old Christmas movie, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. They sent all of the broken toys to this island since they couldn't send them to the kids for Christmas." She paused, waiting to see if they understood what she was saying. They still continued to stare at her blankly.

"Don't you get it?" she cried. "The government wants to create a perfect society, so they throw out all of the people who don't fit in, labeling them as 'evil', and keep all of the 'good' people. Grover, your legs are messed up. Clarisse, you have a temper. Percy, you're a rebel. And I was mute. None of us fit into a perfect society. So they threw us here."

She paused, letting everyone take in her words. Grover's mouth fell open. Clarisse stared wide-eyed at the floor. Percy sat on his bed, running a hand through his hair.

"So none of us are evil, then," Clarisse said, breaking the silence. "We're not inherently bad."

Annabeth shook her head in answer to Clarisse's statement, but her eyes were on Percy. "No. None of us are the monsters society labeled us as." Percy looked up and met her gaze, his face softening at her stare.

"So how does this change anything?" Grover asked, bringing Annabeth back to reality. "We may not be monsters, but we're still stuck here."

"That's the other thing," Annabeth said, her voice taking on a grim tone. "Luke. I think he's . . ." She trailed off, unsure of how to present this information. "I think he's going to kill everyone."

Silence.

Annabeth's hands shook as she explained that day at the Grand Canyon when she'd overheard Luke talking to some guy. "He'd told him that he just needed some more time," she explained. "A month or so. And then a few days later, Percy and I caught Luke and his men hiding boxes of weapons. It sounded like he was planning a genocide or something. But it got me thinking." She paused, allowing the other three to fully process her words before she dropped the rest of the information on them like a bomb.

"Have you ever wondered why the Pit isn't overcrowded? I mean, after a hundred years running, wouldn't it be a little bit full? Yet, it's not. I think it's because they kill everyone here in order to make room for the next batch of misfits. I think that the next genocide is coming up quick and Luke is in charge of it."

For a minute, no one said anything. All three of them stared at Annabeth like she had just dropped from the sky. Annabeth bit her lip nervously. Now that she'd heard it out loud, her sudden assumption seemed a bit, well, _sudden_. She didn't have a whole lot to back it up and the two instances that she did have weren't much to base something like this on. Yet, Annabeth just _knew_ that she was right. She felt it deep within herself.

"Listen," she pleaded. "I know it sounds crazy, but you have to believe me." She looked over at Clarisse and Grover. "You believe me, don't you?"

Clarisse shrugged. "Look, I trust you, Blondie. But this is insane. And it seems like you're just jumping to conclusions. No offense."

Annabeth's stomach dropped. She looked over at Percy, her face silently pleading with him. He held her gaze and they had a silent conversation, Annabeth begging him to believe her. To side with her. He knew that she wouldn't tell everyone and make a big deal out of this unless she was absolutely positive of it. He _had_ to believe her.

Percy sighed, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "If it was anyone _but_ you," he started, "I would say you're delusional. But . . ."

Annabeth smiled at him, causing his cheeks to go red. She turned back around to Clarisse, who was rolling her eyes. "Alright, Blondie," she said. "I guess I'm with you on this. Goat Boy is also."

Grover, who had been nervously biting his nails next to Clarisse, nodded his consent.

Annabeth smiled, overcome with affection for her friends. That smile quickly faded when Percy asked, "So, Luke is going to kill everyone. What are we going to do?"

"Kill him?" Clarisse asked hopefully.

"Oh, what did I get myself into?" Grover muttered, his voice shaking.

Annabeth shook her head. "No," she told Clarisse. She looked at Percy as she continued, "We're going to escape."

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Everything was prepared. Annabeth had planned the perfect escape strategy, with Percy's help. Clarisse had helped her pack up anything useful from their room and stashed it over at the Grand Canyon, where they would make their final escape. According to Percy, Grover and he had done the same thing.

They would escape at night, when most people would be asleep. Grover and Clarisse would take one route while Percy and Annabeth would take the other. It was less conspicuous that way, Percy claimed. Four people walking together towards the canyon would be suspicious, but two people – especially a young boy and girl – would be easily ignored. When Annabeth and Percy had explained this to Grover, he'd gotten as red as a tomato and had nervously glanced over at Clarisse, who had wiggled her fingers at him in a mock flirtatious gesture. Seeing him so uncomfortable over something so superficial made Annabeth laugh.

"There're the guards again," Percy announced from his perch by the window. "One more round and then we go."

Annabeth tightened her jaw, staring intently at a spot across the room. She was vaguely aware of Percy coming over to sit next to her on the bed, but the action barely registered over the roaring sound of anxiety that was crashing around in her head. Her stomach felt like it was dragging along behind her body and her hands shook in her lap. Percy wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to his body.

"We can do this, right?" Annabeth whispered against his chest. Her fingers came up and played with the hem of his shirt. He pulled one of her hands away from his shirt and intertwined their fingers, his thumb rubbing gentle circles across the back of it.

"Yeah," he reassured her. His voice was so deep, it rumbled in his chest and the feeling of it soothed Annabeth. "We can do this."

There was a silence, awkward and heavy. Annabeth knew what they were both thinking. She'd been thinking about it a lot since they began planning their escape. It was such a simple question, yet it filled Annabeth with an ocean of anxiety.

Where would they go once they escaped?

Their group hadn't discussed it yet, too overwhelmed the problem of actually getting out of the Pit. But at night, when Annabeth laid in bed, thoughts would plague her of after. Where would she go after? She could disappear. This was hers and Percy's chance to really be together in a place where they didn't fear for their lives. They could run away, go someplace and build a life for themselves, outside of the government's control. They could be free to love each other and have a family and have children and teach them what is right and what is wrong and how to be good when it feels like the universe is trying to turn you into a monster.

The thought was so appealing, Annabeth had to catch her breath, her heart beating out of her chest.

And yet . . .

Luke was going to kill people. People were going to _die._ And Annabeth could stop it. She couldn't be selfish and go live out her own fairy tale when everyone else she was leaving behind were going to be brutally murdered. If they all died and she did nothing to stop it, then their deaths would be on her shoulders.

Percy hummed thoughtfully and, as if he knew what she was thinking, said, "It doesn't end once we escape, does it?"

Annabeth bit her lip and after a second, shook her head. "I can't just let them die," she replied, pulling away slightly to look at him. "There are innocent people here. I can't just leave them."

Percy nodded. "I know," he said. "So what do we do?"

Annabeth shook her head. She honestly had no idea. The government was obviously behind this whole issue, so they wouldn't be of any help. She didn't know of any rebellion that she could call for help. It was Annabeth and her friends against a corrupt system and if they failed, thousands of people would die.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "I suppose we bring it to the people. We go to Elysium. Their family members might help." She paused, licking her lips. Percy's eyes flicked to them and before Annabeth could continue, he covered her mouth with his, kissing her.

Percy was the first to pull away, whispering against her mouth, "Don't worry about the future. Don't worry about getting the word out, don't worry about leading a revolution. Focus on escaping. Focus on surviving. Focus on right now and tomorrow will come when it does."

Annabeth smiled and brought her hands to his hair, kissing him again because he was right and if something went wrong, if somehow she didn't survive tonight, then she didn't want to have any regrets.

They kissed until they heard footsteps and hushed whispers outside. Percy untangled him from Annabeth and quietly went to the window, peeking out to see if the guards were out there. When he looked back at her, nodding his head grimly, Annabeth's stomach dropped.

It was go time.

They worked like a well-oiled machine, throwing on their shoes and stocking up on weapons. Percy grabbed a few daggers, a knife, and a gun, hiding all of it in his clothes. Annabeth hid a knife beneath her shirt and, at the last minute, stuck a small handgun in the waist band of her jeans. The metal felt cool and deadly against her skin. Annabeth shivered and prayed she wouldn't have to shoot it.

When they were ready, Percy slipped his hand into Annabeth's and together they scurried outside. Annabeth stayed close to Percy, pressing herself into his body, mostly to hide the trembling in her limbs. Percy wrapped an arm around her waist, leaning down to whisper in her ear, "Once we get up here, we'll be surrounded by people. Just do like we planned and we'll be okay."

Annabeth nodded, swallowing hard. Percy led her into an alleyway and then they came out onto one of the main streets in the Pit, still thriving with life despite it being in the middle of the night. Percy squeezed her waist and Annabeth relaxed into him, putting a playful, flirty smile onto her face. She giggled and played with the hem of his shirt and placed small kisses on his neck and prayed that they looked like a couple running off to have some private time.

Thankfully, no one gave them a second glance. Annabeth's heart pounded so hard that she was afraid that it would jump right out of her chest. She buried her face in the crook of Percy's neck, partly to make their act look believable and partly to hide her trembling lips. Percy rubbed tiny circles with his thumb into her skin but it did little to calm her down.

Out of the corner of her eye, Annabeth saw a sharp movement. She pulled her head away from Percy and glanced to her left, spotting a familiar-looking man standing by one of the brothels. He was watching them intently, and when Annabeth made eye contact with him, his hand strayed near his waist. Annabeth knew with a sickening feeling that he had a gun hidden there. Her stomach dropped.

"Percy," Annabeth muttered. She felt Percy stiffen and knew that he heard her. "Percy, one of Luke's men is over there. He's watching us."

She didn't have to see Percy to know that he was looking at the man. He cursed under his breath. "Keep walking," he instructed a shaking Annabeth. "When I tell you to run, you run, but stay close to me." Annabeth gave the slightest of nods and her entire body stiffened, preparing for flight. Percy led her through the area, navigating through drunk men and street fighters and drug dealers, keeping her close and tight to his side. The whole time, Annabeth remained aware of the man, who was slowly drawing closer to them.

"Percy, he's getting closer," Annabeth said, her voice quivering with panic.

Percy didn't reply, but he moved a little faster, pushing through the throng of people until they finally made it to a smaller street, one that Annabeth recognized. It led to the canyon.

"Run," Percy whispered in her ear. Then he took her hand and the two of them bolted down the street, running so fast that Annabeth couldn't feel the ground beneath her. She heard a yell and then the sound of footsteps following them and panic clawed up her throat but adrenaline kept her going. She kept up as Percy pulled her on, twisting and turning through the houses until finally – with a cry of relief – Annabeth saw the edge of the canyon a hundred yards ahead of them. She pushed on, knowing that if she could get there, she would be safe.

Then there was a loud pop and something small and sharp and forceful hit Annabeth's shoulder, sending her toppling to the ground with a scream. Her hand was wrenched out of Percy's. She barely heard his scream over the roaring sound of pain in her shoulder. She screamed again, feeling blood pour down her arm like little red rivers. Through a haze of pain, she saw Percy – who had been thrown to the ground too – scramble towards her only to be subdued by four of Luke's men. He fought against them, finally giving up when he realized that it was no use. Annabeth shut her eyes tight, hands shaking. _She'd been shot_. She'd been shot and Percy was captured and their escape had failed. Tears burned the backs of her eyelids.

"Annabeth." It wasn't Percy talking. It was Luke. His voice sent shivers down her spine. She opened her eyes, her vision blurring with tears, to see the man himself strolling into view, a shining silver gun in his hands. Annabeth clutched her shoulder, blood seeping through her fingers, and glared.

"Annabeth," Luke said again, "what are you doing?"

Annabeth didn't say anything. Luke didn't deserve words. Luke didn't deserve the dirt on her shoes.

Luke chuckled. "I sure hope you're not trying to escape," he said. "I'm afraid that would quite hurt my feelings. After all, I've showed you nothing but generosity."

At that, Annabeth laughed out loud. "Generosity?" she questioned. "You are the most selfish man on the planet. You're showed me nothing but _cruelty_ and I hate you for it."

She expected Luke to get angry. Instead, he smiled and Annabeth couldn't help but be reminded of the Cheshire cat. "Nothing you say could make your situation better right now, Annabeth. I've caught you. You failed. Face the facts."

Luke's gaze was cruel and Annabeth looked away so he wouldn't see her tears. He was right. She had failed. Here she was, fallen to the ground while Luke stood above her. He had the upper hand. He'd always had the upper hand.

Luke walked towards her and bent down so that he was eye-level with her. When he looked at her now, his face was full of some unreadable emotion, one that made Annabeth uncomfortable. She shied away from him and when she did, she felt something press against her back.

The cool metal of a gun.

Hope soared within her. _Her weapons_. She had accepted defeat so easily that she had forgotten that she was armed. Granted, she wasn't the best fighter, but if she could just hold her own until Percy got free, then they had a chance of getting out of this alive.

"Here's your final test, Annabeth," Luke told her. "Your chances of escaping are pretty much nonexistent right now. You can both give up now and come with me, or you can die trying to escape. You choose."

Annabeth slowly brought her hand to her back, keeping eye contact with Luke the whole time. When she wrapped her fingers around the gun, she said to Luke, "I choose neither."

Then she threw the gun at Percy.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Everything that happened after that was a blur.

Percy caught the gun with ease and pressed the barrel at one of the men holding him and shot him in the stomach. He toppled to the ground with a pained cry and Percy and able to break free from the other men while simultaneously shooting two more. The last man was smarter, running straight at Percy and knocking the gun from his hand before he could shoot him. The two grappled on the ground and Annabeth figured that Percy was able to hold his own for a while.

She turned to Luke, who was red with rage. "You—" He never finished whatever he was going to say because Annabeth drew a knife that was hidden under her shirt and pressed it against his neck.

"You let us go," Annabeth said in a deadly calm voice, "or I swear I will slit your throat."

She felt Luke swallow against the edge of her blade. His features melted into a fearful expression and it scared Annabeth how satisfying it was to see that.

"You're going to kill everyone," Annabeth said, her knife still against his throat. "I know what you're planning. I saw the weapons. You're going to kill everyone here. You're going to 'clean out' the Pit in order to make room for the next generation of evil twins." Luke opened his mouth to argue, but Annabeth pressed the knife harder, effectively cutting him off. "Don't try to lie. I can see the truth in your eyes. You want to know what else I've learned? I've learned that the people here aren't all bad. A lot of the people here are handicaps, people who don't fit into the perfect society of Elysium. We're the misfits and I hate to break it to you, Luke, but you were thrown in here just like the rest of us. You're an outcast too." Annabeth paused. "And I feel sorry for you."

Luke's face was drained of color. He stared at Annabeth in wonder, like he couldn't believe that she had figured out what she had. "You'll die out there," he argued weakly. "It's all wilderness. There's no one out there who can save you."

He was right, of course. It was all wilderness and Annabeth was practically committing suicide by trying to go out into it. But then she remembered what she was doing it for. These people – most of who had done nothing wrong – were going to be killed for simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time. They were helpless. Annabeth had been helpless so many times in her life. She remembered the torture her cousins had put her through, the abuse her aunt and uncle had practiced on her, the government officials who had thrown her out in the middle of the desert to fend for herself. She remembered her parents, burning to death in her home. She remembered Malcolm, helping her out the window in his little Tin Man costume, acting like a real knight in shining armor just before the house exploded with him inside it. Annabeth had always let life just happen to her inside of making life happen and she wouldn't stand for it anymore. Not when there were innocent lives on the line.

Annabeth stared at Luke and repeated the familiar words, "Maybe it's time that the princess saves herself."

Luke opened his mouth to reply, but he never got the chance before Annabeth drove her blade into his stomach. He gasped, his whole body stiffening. Annabeth drew the blade out, surprised when tears blurred her vision. She stood, avoiding looking at Luke, who called out weakly to her. She turned her attention to Percy, crying out when she saw him pinned to the ground, fighting desperately to keep the gun's barrel pointed away from his face. Annabeth ran over to them and sunk her knife hilt-deep into the man's side. He exhaled sharply and fell on top of Percy, who quickly pushed him away and jumped up, enveloping Annabeth in a hug. She closed her eyes and let herself, for five seconds, be comforted by Percy.

"Thank you," Percy murmured into her hair. It was just two simple words, but Annabeth could feel their weight. She had just saved his life.

"I love you," she replied by way of explanation. Percy hugged her tighter and pressed a light kiss on her forehead. Annabeth would have been content to stay that way forever, but they had to move. More men were coming. Annabeth could practically hear their footsteps.

Pulling away from Percy, Annabeth looked back at the way they came in surprise. She actually _could_ hear their footsteps. About seven more men, as big and strong as Percy was, were heading towards them. Annabeth's stomach dropped, fear rising in her throat. There was no way they could escape now.

Suddenly, she felt Percy's hands on her back. "Go," he instructed, pushing her towards the canyon. "Go. I'll be right behind you."

"What?" Annabeth cried. "No! No way am I leaving you behind!"

In response, Percy pulled something out of his pocket. It was a small and sleek little black sphere. Annabeth's breath left her body when she realized what it was.

A grenade.

Annabeth latched on to Percy's arm. " _No_ ," she told him. "Percy, if you don't get away fast enough, you could blow to pieces."

"It's a risk I'm willing to take, if it means that you get to safety."

"Yeah?" Annabeth argued, panicked tears streaming down her face. "Well, it's not a risk that _I'm_ willing to take! I'm not leaving without you."

The men were getting closer. Percy still wasn't moving and hysteria was bubbling up inside Annabeth. Desperate, she latched on to Percy's arm and ran towards the cliffs, dragging him along behind her. He reluctantly followed, the grenade still in his hand.

They skidded to a stop at the edge of the Grand Canyon. Annabeth almost cried with relief when she saw that Grover and Clarisse were already there, waiting for them about two hundred feet below. Clarisse yelled something, but Annabeth couldn't hear it over the sound of the men getting closer. They were only fifty feet away now.

She began climbing down. The cliff was steep, but Annabeth had climbed down here before. She moved with expertise, making it about ten feet down before looking back up at Percy. He wore an apologetic expression. Annabeth froze.

"Percy," she warned.

Percy shook his head. "I have to do it, Annabeth, or we won't make it." Before Annabeth could argue any further, Percy stood and turned to face their attackers, pulling the pin as he did so.

The rest happened so fast, that Annabeth could barely keep up.

An explosion rocked the ground and echoed in the canyon. Annabeth lost her balance and fell five more feet to a small ledge, almost toppling over the side of it and falling another two hundred feet. A scream ripped out of her throat, and it was the most heart-wrenchingly painful sound Annabeth had ever heard. As she looked up, she saw smoke and fire billowing up into the sky, and it reminded her so much of the night she became an orphan. As she stared up at the flames, screaming, she flashed back to another time, ten years ago, when she stared up at a window. The flames had taken everyone she'd loved then too.

Would fate really be so cruel as to take away what she loved most again?

Her heart pounded and she coughed and she screamed and she called out for Percy but he wasn't coming and _the fear was eating her alive_ and she wondered if this is what she got for fighting for what she believed in.

But then – _but then_ – she saw him, covered in smoke and dirt and scrambling clumsily down the side of the cliff, but _alive_ , and it was like she was breathing for the first time after an eternity underwater.

Percy lost his balance halfway down and slipped the rest of the way down to her, landing on top of her. She laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck and ignoring the burning sensation in her shoulder. He was alive and he was here and he had saved them. They were home free, at last.

"I thought you were dead," Annabeth sobbed, using her thumbs to rub the dirt from his face.

Percy smiled and turned his face so he could kiss the palm of her hand. "Like I would ever leave you," he replied with a contagious grin. "Honestly, Annabeth, you've got to put more faith in me."

Annabeth let out a disbelieving bark of laughter and rolled her eyes. "You _idiot_ ," she scolded affectionately before pulling him down and kissing him like the world was ending.

Annabeth didn't know what would happen now. She didn't know if they would find help or if anyone would even believe what they said. She didn't even know if she would survive to see tomorrow. But for now, she had a purpose. She had people whose lives were in her hands. She had a family and a boy who loved her. And she would fight for them with everything that she had.

Percy pulled away, smiling and pressing his lips to her forehead. She saw the same thing in his eyes that she saw in the faint rising horizon.

A new beginning.

 **And there you have it! The end. Sorry for leaving you all on a sort-of cliffhanger. Maybe in the future I'll come back to this story and expand on it, but for now, this is it! I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it. You all are incredible and I'm so thankful for each and every one of you.**

 **Also! If you have read my other story, The Book Nook, you might be happy to hear that it was nominated for the Fanatic Fanfics Multifandom Award! I was just wondering if you all would like to vote for it! Voting begins April 11 and I posted the link at the end of The Book Nook.**

 **I hope you all have a fantastic day!**


End file.
